


One Jump at a Time

by hippolarium



Category: Aladdin (1992), Aladdin (2019)
Genre: Awkward!Aladdin, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Jasmine For President 2020, Mutual Pining, Political Intrigue, Slow Burn, agrabah is an islamic country and you cant change my mind, also did i mention that they both know they're pining after each other, but he's got some game, gosh we stan her, no magic, nothing too crazy though, shameless flirting, we also got a sprinkle of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-05-15 17:17:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19300240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippolarium/pseuds/hippolarium
Summary: "With her, he felt like he didn’t have to play a careful game of strategy to make sure he remained in her good favour. Her mere personality gave him permission to be himself."Or, an alternate universe where Ja'far doesn't intercept Aladdin on his way out of the Palace, and he actually gets the chance to return Jasmine's hairpiece.A series of (a lot more detailed than I expected) snapshots following the growth of Aladdin and Jasmine's friendship, and maybe, the growth of something more.





	1. Returning Her Hairpin

**Author's Note:**

> hi im sorry for the cheesy summary, i havent been able to write for the past few months and im a little rusty at this but anYWAY thank you for clicking on this fic! in a nutshell, i LOVED the chemistry between mena massoud's aladdin and naomi scott's jasmine, and i just wish we had the chance to explore their dynamic a little more. there's no magic in this story (ik, no genie, im sad too :( ) but i kind of wanna play around with the political elements of agrabah as well. the main focus though, will be aladdin and jasmine's friendship. 
> 
> OKAY NOW ENOUGH FROM ME, PLS ENJOY THE STORY

The palace gates were shut tonight, and at least according to whispers between the royal guards during shift changes, there was nothing scheduled to pass through the great set of doors until morning. It did put a hitch in Aladdin’s plans, but Aladdin has never been the type to plan his expeditions. He knew that that entry route wasn’t sustainable anyway; he couldn’t keep relying on sneaking in with staff invited to the palace, and it was bound to fail him at some point. If he had Abu with him, maybe he could’ve sent him ahead to scout the wall for any weaknesses, but he knew it was for the best that Abu stay at home. There was another way, he was certain of it.

The moon had just crested over the village roofs and would reach the Princess’ balcony soon. Aladdin reached in his pocket and pulled out Dalia’s hair piece, the memory of her dark eyes lit up in poorly concealed happiness at his promise of his return. She was beautiful, no doubt, but she didn’t flaunt it around like the harem girls in the city. And she could actually keep up with him, both in escaping the lawmen in the market and in their banter together. Aladdin had only known her for a day, but the few moments he had with her were like sitting as close as he dared to the fire in the lawmen’s camp during winter; a taste of warmth that left him chasing for more. There was a spark between them when they met again under the moonlight, and Aladdin was sure she felt it too.

He pulled his stolen cloak from a lawmen around him tighter and casually strolled around the side of the wall, carefully watching for any way he could breach the wall. Eventually he noticed a small clump of trees growing against the wall, but not tall enough to match its height perfectly. Aladdin glanced around for witnesses before disappearing into the foliage at the base of the trees. It’d have to do.

He quickly scaled the tree, pausing for a moment once he reached the top. The wall on this side of the palace was made of mud bricks laid evenly. He looked over at the top and contemplated finding a way to propel himself over, but it was too high and he didn’t want to take that risk. He tried to climb again, but his fingers could not find purchase on the tiny grooves of the wall. However, he felt some bricks shift slightly as he did so. Aladdin looked closer and noticed that some bricks had been laid a little unevenly against the others. He pushed lightly against a few within his reach and found that they were not bound by the mortar in between.

Aladdin pushed a little harder, enough for a space big enough that he could gain purchase, and grinned. They could act as hand holds, but he doubted they’d be large enough for his feet. It would be dangerous and tricky, but he knew he could make it work.

In no time at all, he had scaled the wall and was swinging himself over the wall. He made his way down using the same bricks from the other side, carefully pushing them back into place as best he could as he did so. Once he reached the ground, he lingered in the shadows for a moment and scouted the area.

It was the Princess’ garden. He recognised the small waterfall flowing into a sleek pool, the flowers and foliage, the statues at the centre of arrangements. He thanked Allah that he found an entryway a lot closer to the Princess’ room than last time.

The moon was almost at its height. There were still guards patrolling the grounds, but at least Aladdin knew where he had to go. He stretched out his arms in anticipation and climbed onto the first level walkway that he found the night before. They’d be sore the next day when he woke up, but that was a problem for later. For now, he focused on staying out of sight, darting behind columns, skirting around the edges of hallways, keeping his stolen cloak wrapped firmly around him.

He eventually found himself standing in the shadows of another patch of trees under the Princess’ massive alabaster balcony, silently watching as two women appeared in his line of sight.

The Princess was there, dressed in a simple yet fine night gown, but Aladdin barely paid her attention. He was immediately drawn to the woman leaning against the doorframe beside her, her hair flowing freely around her shoulders, the loose fabric of her clothes fluttering softly with the breeze. There was a glint of gold in her hands; the pin that fastened the hair piece to her hair in his pocket. Aladdin couldn’t help but stare at Dalia; she looked every bit like a moon goddess even without the opulent gown she wore the night before, truly a sight to behold.

She said something to the Princess that made the latter raise her eyebrows in amusement before finally disappearing into the room. Dalia rolled her eyes good-naturedly before turning her attention out towards the moon, walking over to the edge of the balcony and leaning over the side.

Aladdin emerged from the darkness. The movement caught her eye and his heart warmed as her face immediately lit up in excitement before she quickly schooled her features into a more neutral expression. He couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t look so surprised. I told you yesterday that I could find my way anywhere,” he said.

Dalia lifted an eyebrow and scoffed. “I was actually contemplating sending some guards after you to retrieve my hair piece. Stealing is still a crime in Agrabah, no matter how many times you get away with it on the city’s streets,” she riposted, a smirk on her lips.

“Then it’s fortunate that I arrived when I did,” he replied easily. “I’m not running for my life because of you again, unless you’re right there with me.”

“Please don’t tempt me,” she said. “If I end up enjoying myself too much, I might end up running away with you and leaving this palace behind. And I’m rather fond of the Palace.”

Aladdin could feel his heart starting to race with how easily she riposted his subtle flirting. It filled him with confidence and made him feel powerful in a way he hadn’t felt before.

“I’d hate to pull you away from the Palace, but you’re going to have to come out at some point to receive my gifts,” he said, hoping to hide the nervousness from his voice.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise at his directness, and leaned back to fold her arms over her chest. “Gifts? So are you trying to woo me over now?”

He flashed her a charming smile and purposefully left her question unanswered, the smile that helped him escape angry shop owners when he pushed them a little too far. “In fact, I’ve got one for you right now,” he said, reaching into his pocket. He watched from his peripheral vision as Dalia leaned over the balcony in anticipation. When she saw it was her hair piece, her expression melted into amusement, thinly veiled by a veneer of aloofness.

“You can’t use something that you’ve stolen from me as a gift,” she said, mirth in her voice.

“ _Technically_ , it’s not stealing if you’re planning on giving it back,” he replied.

“You’re horrible at this,” she remarked. “But as strange as your methods are, I can’t say I don’t appreciate you returning my hair piece.” She turned away from him for a moment and scanned the area around him before disappearing for a moment. “I’ll be down in a second!” she called, reappearing with a veil over her hair. Aladdin expected her to meet him at the bottom of the stairs below the balcony, but she moved to the side and began to climb over the rail.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he said, moving to the side below her. “I-I can just climb up to meet you, you don’t have to-”

“I can do this,” she insisted, swinging her other leg over the railway and shifting over to the wall, grasping onto the grooves in the ornamental patterns.

“But this is dangerous, you could-”

“Please shut up and let me focus.”

Aladdin closed his mouth instantly and resigned himself to watching with bated breath as Dalia scaled the wall carefully. He still didn’t agree that she should have to put herself at risk, but he remembered how she ran through the streets with him the day before, dodging lawmen and leaping between buildings with relative ease. She had proven that she could handle herself, but that didn’t do much to assuage his anxiety. Instead, he positioned himself below her, shifting his feet into a stance that would support him if he had to catch her.

After what seemed like a lifetime, her feet hit the ground safely. She huffed softly and brushed herself off, turning to him with a look of satisfaction. “Don’t look so surprised,” she teased, using his own words against him.

“No, not at all, of course not,” he said hastily, his heart still pumping with anxiety. He held out her hair piece before realising it was covered in his sweat. He chuckled nervously and pulled it away again, wiping it dry against his cloak before offering it to her again. “I guess I should apologise for taking this. Is it another family heirloom?”

She scoffed. “Actually, it’s a gift from one of those stupid princes and their entourage that come by every few weeks. In all honesty, I wouldn’t have been too worried if you hadn’t returned it,” she said, taking it from him and fastening her hair back with it.

Aladdin pursed his lips. “Oh,” he said dumbly. “The Princess’ suitors, d-do they bring you courtship gifts as well?”

Dalia’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. The change happened so quickly, he doubted it happened at all. “I mean, it’s a gift for the Princess,” she said cooly. “But she gets so many things from her suitors, a lot of things she doesn’t particularly like. We mostly share a lot of her simpler jewellery, she doesn’t mind sharing with me when I have to be presentable as well. But this hair piece in particular, she gave to me.”

Aladdin sighed quietly to himself, relieved. “In that case, you’re right about me being horrible at this. I feel a little awkward giving that hair piece to you as my first gift, now that I know where it came from,” he admitted.

She giggled and looped her arm through his, leading him away from the balcony. “Don’t be. It’s not the gift that I’m after,” she said, her eyes shining as she glanced at him. “Now, come on. I’ll show you around the palace.”

* * *

They ended up in the Princess’ garden near the section of the wall with the unstable bricks. Surprisingly, there were hardly any guards around the places Dalia showed him; the main courtyard, the rose gardens, the eastern pavilion for receiving guests. But he supposed they were public places that were very visible from upper levels of the palace, and intruders hoping to trespass those areas would be spotted easily. They were all beautiful and majestically designed, as Aladdin would expect of a palace, but if he was being honest, he was too preoccupied with avoiding the guards to truly appreciate it.

_“A little bit more living space than your high-rise tower overlooking the city, wouldn’t you say, Aladdin?” she had teased good-naturedly._

_“True, but way too much open space. If lawmen were to come barging into my quarters, as they do every other week, where would I hide my-“ He has purposefully paused for a moment before finishing with, to her amusement, “_ Collectibles _?”_

Well, that and the fact that he was very preoccupied with making Dalia laugh.

She was unlike anyone he had ever met before. Sure, Aladdin had the occasional shop merchant or neighbourhood kid  to talk to or trade, but Dalia matched his wit as if in perfect symmetry. He would throw out a comment— be it a good-natured taunt or light flirting— and she would toss it back at him with ease. Her presence worked quickly to unwork the everpresent knot in his stomach, keeping him alert of danger, and he found himself relaxing for the first time around a person (beyond Abu). With her, he felt like he didn’t have to play a careful game of strategy to make sure he remained in her good favour. Her mere personality gave him permission to be himself. It was almost too good to be true how well they got along together— and maybe it was; Aladdin wasn’t a stranger to being deceived— but if that was the case, he couldn’t bring himself to worry about it. All he cared about in that moment was simply being with her.

“Hey,” he said, nodding his head in her direction. He was propped up against a decorative stone in the garden. Dalia looked at him at his voice, setting down the flower crown she’d been weaving from the flowers he had picked for her throughout the night. “Can I ask, how did you come to be the Princess’ handmaiden?”

She turned to face him fully, her body naturally straightening into perfect posture on the edge of the fountain. Even her strides as she showed him around the palace showed natural grace and balance. Everything about the way she held herself demonstrated nobility, but she lacked the distinctive reserve and air of elitism that the higher-ups Aladdin had encountered possessed.

Dalia hummed softly. “I think it was just natural,” she mused. “I’ve been around her for as long as I could remember. Da-” She cut herself off quickly with a cough. “Sorry,” she said, giving him a small apologetic smile. “My mother served on the Queen’s personal staff. The Queen was always fond of me, so it was natural that I came to know Jasmine eventually.”

“Jasmine?” Aladdin echoed. “Is that the Princess?”

Dalia gave him a strange look. “You didn’t know that?”

He stretched out his legs, feeling a little uncomfortable all of a sudden. “I mean, with all due respect to Her Highness, she doesn’t come out in the city like, _at all_ ,” he said. “Of course, we know the Sultan has a daughter and that she’s of marrying age, if the entourage of suitors that come by every other week is anything to go by,” he added quickly when he saw her face change almost imperceptibly. “But in all honesty, the Sultan and the Princess are pretty far removed from the people. The only time we really hear from the Sultan is when there are changes to the tax rate or something. And even announcements like that only apply to people who actually own official businesses. For the most part, we keep to ourselves, and the royal family does the same.”

Dalia remained quiet. Her gaze moved away from him and she sat back wordlessly, her expression inscrutable. Aladdin waited for her to say something, except that moment never came.

Did he mess up? He stood up from his place and went to sit beside Dalia, leaving a respectable distance between them out of fear of pushing her away even more. The movement caught her attention and she watched as he made his way over. She didn’t seem _mad_ , but Aladdin didn’t want to take any chances. “Did I say something wrong?” he asked quietly.

Her expression changed immediately into sympathy and almost… shame? “No! You haven’t done anything wrong, you’ve actually been doing everything _right_ since I met you, I’m just-“ She sighed and dropped her gaze.

It was obvious in her eyes that she was conflicted. That was the last thing Aladdin wanted for her to feel. “Hey,” he said, reaching out and brushing a piece of hair that had fallen before her eyes behind her ear. At his touch, she looked up at him curiously. He held her gaze and brought his hand back to his side. “You don’t have to be scared around me,” he said softly. His lips twitched into a grin and he continued, “I’m a thief. I can take anything.”

She snorted a laugh in response, the tension disappearing from her expression. “I want to say that was a terrible pun, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t mildly impressed,” she said, falling back into her usual self.

“Thank you for acknowledging that, not enough people appreciate my skilful construction of wordplay,” he replied, happy to see her smiling again.

“I said I was _mildly_ impressed, don’t let it get to your head.”

He flashed her a charming smile, relishing how she faltered momentarily. “For you, I would never.”

She rolled her eyes at that, but he didn’t miss the small, poorly concealed smile on her lips. “As much as I enjoy these stupid conversations of ours, I actually do need to tell you something,” she said seriously. “And as much as I like you and hope that you’ll hear me out, I also don’t blame you if you decide not to talk to me again.”

“I like you too,” he blurted out.

Her lips twitched into a smirk for a moment. “I know. But I’m also serious.”

“So am I,” he told her, turning to face her properly. There was the distant sound of men shouting from somewhere within the Palace walls, but it barely registered in his mind. Instead, he focused on giving her his full attention. “Say what you need to say. I promise I’m listening. And I promise I’ll be here for whatever comes after, Dalia.”

She bit her lip nervously. “You need to stop calling me that,” she said. Aladdin had begun to notice an odd, yet, familiar tremble in the ground now. It caught his attention for a moment and he racked his brains to try and locate the sound, but then she spoke again. “It’s not my name.”

He turned his focus back to her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly that. I’m not Dalia.” She paused for a moment. “Dalia is my handmaiden.”

Aladdin looked at her quizzically. “Your handmaiden?” There was a distinct voice now, the voice of a captain of some sort, shouting orders. The slight trembling of the ground was more obvious now, and the familiar rhythm of a crowd joined the sounds within the palace. Almost on instinct, he felt his muscles tensing in anticipation for something. It was all familiar somehow, but Aladdin still couldn’t put a name to it.

“Yes, my handmaiden,” Dalia— whatever her name was— continued. She inhaled deeply, as if bracing herself, before her eyes set in determination. The shouting men. The trembling of the ground and running feet. The orders of a captain. Realisation suddenly dawned on him. “I’m the Prin-”

“Guards!” he hissed, jumping onto his feet and pulling the hood of his cloak over his head as he spotted a soldier bearing the royal insignia appear around the corner. His eyes searched around him for someplace he could hide, but there was open space all around him.

“Over there,” Dalia— _the girl_ —urged, pointing to a small patch of rose bushes near the wall. Aladdin grabbed her hand and began to run, only to have her stop him. “I can’t. They’re looking for me,” she said.

“Why?”

 _“Over here!”_ The soldier had spotted her and more guards were appearing from behind the corner.

“Just hide!”

Aladdin didn’t need to be told twice. He darted towards the bushes and hastily dived behind them, flattening himself as much as he could against the ground. Through spaces between the leaves, he watched as the girl faced the incoming guards, her head held high, her expression schooled into cool indifference. As more people rushed onto the scene, the Princess accompanied by two guards appeared. She made her way over to the girl, looking anguished.

Then the guards knelt before the girl.

“Your Highness,” one of the guards, who he assumed to be the captain, addressed her. “Thank Allah you’re safe. We’ve been searching everywhere for you.”

 _Your Highness_?

A wave of indecipherable emotions came to him at once. Had he been talking to _the Princess of Agrabah_ this whole time? What was she doing in the marketplace the day before? Why did she agree to follow him through the streets in a chase from men who served under her family? Who was the real Dalia, and why hadn’t she told him in the first place?

_What does she want with a simple street rat like me?_

Aladdin watched as she stood tall with perfect poise, her voice carrying within it authority and strength as she spoke with the captain. The hairpin he had stolen and returned to her glistened under the moonlight, and only then did it truly sink in how expensive it must’ve been. Even the bracelet from her mother that he had returned to her the night before had been melded from gold and precious jewels. No simple handmaiden could possess such treasures. And the fact that she had been so clueless about the city that she hadn’t prepared anything of value to barter with the baker; Aladdin wanted to kick himself.

All the clues were there since the beginning. He was so taken by _her_ to notice the signs and join the dots. He often prided himself in his quick wits and infallibility with judging people’s characters, yet he had been deceived— no, he had _allowed_ himself to be deceived so easily. And to think— to _believe_ — he actually had the _chance_ to _pursue_ her. Now he wasn’t sure what to think or how to feel.

He was exhausted.

Eventually, the guards began dispersing. The Princess shot one last look towards the bushes, the emotion in her eyes so familiar to him now yet entirely different, and followed the last of the guards out of sight. When all was quiet again, Aladdin slipped out of his hiding spot and scaled the wall back into the night.

* * *

“Well, Abu, we managed to make ten silver coins today,” Aladdin said as he counted the money in the pouch. “Maybe just enough for you and I to grab something to eat for the night.”

Abu chittered enthusiastically at that and grabbed a handful of fabric from his pants, pointing to the nuts vendor at the corner of his street. Aladdin chuckled and picked Abu up, placing him on his shoulder. They made their way to the stall, making sure the money bag was visible on Aladdin’s hip. Naturally, the food vendors had become wary of him and Abu whenever they approached. If they weren’t trying to steal some of their produce, they were definitely (and usually destructively) running from lawmen. It was natural to treat each other with an air of suspicion when doing business in the marketplace, but nobody was willing to give Aladdin and Abu the benefit of the doubt unless they had money.

Aladdin wished things didn’t have to be this way. It definitely made things harder when he was younger; to be the boy mothers warned their children about, the little devil that would steal your produce the second you glanced away, the orphan kid who stirred up trouble wherever he went. He didn’t want to be singled out as someone to be feared. But when it seemed like the whole world treated you like the scum of the earth, it became harder to survive without compromising his desires.

They got their peanuts without too much hassle and were soon on their way back to their tower. The sky was still bright with colour, but the faint glow of the moon was already present. This time yesterday, Aladdin had been looking for a cloak to steal from one of the lawmen that patrolled his area in eagerness to see Dalia— well, _the Princess_ — again.

He hadn’t gotten much of an opportunity to sort out his thoughts on the matter since he snuck out of the Palace again. The Princess had disguised herself as a commoner to see the marketplace and introduced herself as her handmaiden when they met the other day. She had continued to conceal her true identity even when he came again in the evening to return her bracelet, and the night before when he returned her hairpin. He had looked like a fool, flirting with her and trying to make her laugh, all whilst she encouraged him despite knowing that as the Princess, she was beyond him.

He knew he should be mad, or at least annoyed about the whole ordeal. But despite the deception, he couldn’t let go of how her eyes shined when he made her laugh, or how she would try to hide her smile when he flirted with her, or the way she looked at him curiously whenever he talked about his life in the city. Everything about the memory of her called to a deeper feeling of warmth and a longing for more. In spite of himself, he couldn’t shake off the sense that there was some inexplicable connection there.

Abu tugged at his shirt and squeaked, pointing to nuts. Aladdin’s pouch was still relatively untouched. He took a few more for himself before he offered the rest to Abu, who screeched eagerly and began picking them off. Aladdin smiled and stroked his back.

“You’re my only friend, Abu. Even if you’re just a monkey,” he said. Abu stopped eating for a minute and looked at him curiously. For a moment, Aladdin thought he saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. But that moment, if it was real, passed quickly, and Abu went back to enjoying his nuts.

Aladdin sighed as they came to the corridor leading up to the tower, trying not to let it cut too deep. He pulled the lever and waited for the familiar rumble as steps emerged from the wall. He had had this conversation with himself before. There was no need to bring himself unnecessary grief indulging in those thoughts again.

As soon as he reached the top, he immediately noticed that his space had been set up. He never left without disguising the room, just in case a stray lawman wandered in by accident. Someone had been inside and figured out that he’d transformed this abandoned tower into his home. He shared a glance with Abu and pulled out the small blade hidden in his shoe.

“Sorry! Don’t be scared, it’s just me!”

Aladdin yelped and whipped around towards the voice.

From behind a red curtain, the Princess emerged. She was dressed in plain commoner clothing with a veil over her head like the last time, but it was clear that she wasn’t from the streets from the crispness of her clothes. Her hair flowed freely around her shoulders and she stood with her hands before her in a placating gesture. For a moment, Aladdin stood there dumbstruck.

Then, Abu screeched and leapt off his shoulder, scurrying into his sleeping area above the curtains.

“H-Hi. What are you doing here?” he asked. Then he remembered that _that’s the Princess!_ and clambered onto his knees, returning his blade to its place as he did so. “Your Highness,” he said, bowing his head.

He heard her groan. “Please get up, Aladdin.” He reluctantly got back on his feet and met her gaze uneasily, unsure of what to think or how to act. Everything he knew about the correct propriety when addressing the royal family came from what he’d observed from the people, or snippets of conversations he’d overheard from the lawmen. Yesterday, he didn’t even know the Princess’ name. He was terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing.

“I know you’re worrying about how to behave around me,” she said, approaching him carefully. He watched as she came closer, his guard still up, and eventually stand a few steps before him. “But I’m still me. You don’t have to be scared around me,” she said softly.

He raised his head slightly in recognition at her words. Although his mind insisted to remain wary and alert, he allowed himself to relax a little. He swallowed and straightened his posture, rising to his full height. “Why are you here, Your Highness?”

She remained composed, but Aladdin caught the flash of disdain at the title. “I needed to apologise for last night,” she said. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I deceived you or led you on in any way. And I’m sorry you found out that way. I wanted to tell you myself on my own terms.”

Aladdin could see no trace of vulnerability in her eyes. Not the kind befitting of a true apology. Of course there wouldn’t be. The Princess of Agrabah was a pillar of strength for her people, and she couldn’t afford to show weakness. She was responsible over them, or would be someday, and came to watch over them with sympathy. With _pity_. _That_ ’s what Aladdin saw in her eyes. She regarded him like the street boy he was, deserving of her acknowledgement and recognition.

And he didn’t blame her. It was true, after all. But that didn’t mean he had to sit there and take it.

He inhaled quietly and paced around her, eventually settling on the window ledge overlooking the Palace. _Her_ Palace. “With all due respect, you didn’t have to come all the way here,” he said finally. He didn’t want the Princess to feel obliged to him any longer, and he was eager to get this conversation over with as soon as possible without disrespecting her. “I get it. You’re the Princess, you want to try to fix the way things are with governance by honouring your people and getting to know them. Well,” he said, shrugging. “Now you know me. And I’m sure you’ll get to know many others. I don’t hold it against you, Your Highness.”

A flicker of surprise passed through her eyes. “You think this was some calculated political move to win over the people?” she asked, her voice steady.

Aladdin raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “You don’t have to explain yourself-”

“Well, _clearly_ I do-” She interrupted herself and sighed deeply, reining her emotions in. “Clearly I do,” she repeated more cooly. “Because if you truly think that I could have fabricated everything that happened between us, including how I felt about-” His eyes shot up to hers and her mouth slammed shut. She looked away and chewed on her lip before her eyes returned to him. “I didn’t come to the marketplace the other day looking for some random civilian to win over,” she said with earnest conviction.

Aladdin adjusted himself to face her fully. “Why were you at the marketplace then?”

She met his gaze with strength, but there was a hint of vulnerability in her eyes now. “I snuck out.”

As the full implication of her words gradually sank in, he found himself surprised and a little confused. She had his full attention now. “I thought a princess could go anywhere,” he said, more curious than anything else.

She gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Not this princess."

He watched as she looked away and began pacing. “I’ve been begging my father for years to let me see the streets of Agrabah. My mother used to tell me stories about the people when I was a little girl, and I’ve been longing to get out and see Agrabah for myself since then. My father promised that when I was older and well read about our kingdom, I’d be able to see the city for myself.”

“But when my mother-” She turned away from him fully for a few moments. When she faced him again, she gave him a small apologetic smile before continuing. He could see the facade of strength gradually dissipating from her eyes. “When my mother passed away, my father grew protective over me. Even more so than before. And I-I know he’s worried about me, and I truly appreciate everything he’s done to keep me safe over the years, but…”

“You can’t help but feel trapped,” Aladdin continued, standing up. She looked at him curiously. “That’s what you said the other day, isn’t it?”

She nodded slowly. “I’m twenty years old. I’m the Princess of Agrabah and yet, not once have I seen the people who I’m supposed to be responsible for one day. And with all the upcoming events at the Palace and potential allies we need to entertain and… _suitors_ to deal with, I knew my chances of seeing the city were getting slim. I just wanted to get out of the Palace at least once, before I run out of time.”

She looked at him again, almost shyly. “Then I met you. And we sort of just… _connected_.”

In spite of himself, warmth blossomed in his chest. He hadn’t doubted that there was a connection between them when they first met, but to hear that she felt it too was very encouraging.

She approached him carefully, stopping a few paces before him. A respectable distance. “I can’t tell you what to believe, Aladdin. And you have every right to be mad at me. But please hear me out before you decide you don’t want to hear from me again,” she said softly, her eyes imploring him. “When I was with you last night, I was _free_. No preconceived expectations, no weird power dynamic, no burden to please you. I don’t get that feeling even from Dalia, my closest friend. It’s hard to explain, but being with you kind of just…” She frowned and waved her hand around as she tried to come up with the words.

“Gave you permission to be truly and completely yourself?” he offered quietly.

She looked back at him inquisitively. “Yes,” she said, just as quietly. “That’s exactly it.”

Somewhere in her words, she had ceased to be the strong and inscrutable Princess of Agrabah and had become the bright-eyed girl under the moonlight, blindly following him around the city as lawmen chased after them, matching his quick wit in conversation with ease. And somewhere whilst listening to her, she had stripped away the street rat with rough edges and revealed the boy who had lived too long in rebuke and isolation. They were too different to ever have been allowed to cross paths, yet somehow, they kept finding their way back to each other.

His lips twitched up into a tentative smile. “I’m not mad, as strange as that is,” he finally admitted. He moved back towards the window ledge and sat down. When she didn’t follow, he looked at her expectantly until she was joining him on the window. “I might’ve been frustrated at first, but I don’t think I was ever truly mad at you. In fact, I think I was more angry at myself for allowing myself to hope for something beyond my reach.” He looked out towards the Palace, standing tall and beautifully in the setting sun.

“Hey,” she said, reaching for his shoulder and catching his gaze. “It doesn’t have to be that way. I don’t want to lose this either. And if there’s anything you should know about me, it’s that I fight for what I believe in,” she said, her eyes set in determination.

Aladdin remembered how she had steeled the nerve to leap across rooftops, how she had insisted she climb down from her balcony herself, even her presence here now. Especially now that he knew how tightly packed her schedule was, and how difficult it was for her to leave the Palace. He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I figured as much,” he said.

“But I won’t fight for this if that’s not what you want,” she continued. She peered at him quizzically. “Is it? Do you think we can keep going as, you know, friends?”

“Friends?” he echoed.

She bit her lip. A habit he was quickly learning she did when she was nervous. “Is that okay?” she asked shyly.

His gut instinct was to protest. Despite everything he knew and felt, and everything she had said, he couldn’t shake off the sense that this was all too good to be true. That one day she’d wake up and realise how unworthy he was of her attention, and throw him back out into the coldness of being rejected by everyone. Maybe it was better to cut his losses now and save them both the trouble of being hurt or disappointed.

But her expression held sheer hope and determination, laid bare and open for him to see. He could read the willingness in her heart to make this work, even if it meant putting herself at risk. It came to him that only something of true value could merit that kind of fiery dedication, and she wanted it badly. And when he let himself consider what they had unfettered by his usual suspicion and cynicism, he realised that he wanted it too.

“I don’t know, my schedule’s looking pretty tight at the moment,” he said nonchalantly.

“Oh, come on, I’m sure you’ll have at least a few hours amidst all the treaty negotiations, suitors, and administrative responsibilities,” she quipped back without missing a beat, her eyes revealing her happiness. Aladdin couldn’t help but return her smile, instantly assured that he’d made the right choice. They’d only known each other for three days, but their conversations already felt natural and _right_.

He purposely wiggled his eyebrows cheesily, his stomach swooping when he coaxed a giggle from her. “Don’t be jealous of the suitors, you know I only have eyes for you,” he said.

“That’s another thing, by the way,” she said. “Emphasis on the ‘friends’ part. Which means no more flirting.”

Aladdin snorted. “Alright, now you’ve gone too far,” he protested, but there was no real malice to it. “Not even just a little?” He saw her lips forming a ‘no’ so he quickly added, “It doesn’t have to mean anything,” before she could verbalise it.

She gave him an unimpressed look. “Oh really? And how do you see that working out?”

“But what if flirting is part of my true and complete self?” he shot back. “Do you really want to restrain an authentic part of myself?”

“Okay, fine! Just a little, and _provided_ it doesn’t mean anything. Are you happy?” she asked, leaning back against the window pane.

He flashed her a charming smile, one he knew would annoy her, and answered, “You make me happy.”

“Aladdin.”

“It doesn’t mean anything!” he said in a singsong voice.

She rolled her eyes, exasperated, but she was doing a bad job of hiding her amusement. “I can’t believe you’re making me doubt our friendship this early,” she said, mirth in her eyes.

She ended up staying for another few hours, enjoying his company. At first, Aladdin doubted their new friendship; he quickly noticed that they were definitely both still attracted to each other. But as they both adjusted to their new dynamic, Aladdin found that he surprisingly preferred her friendship to her courtship. He had always been at ease around her, but as friends, there was an entirely new kind of liberty and naturalness to their relationship. She was more ambitious with her teasing, and especially more so when he countered her jibes like clockwork. He didn’t feel as pressured to come up with good lines and flirt with her, and the opportunities he found to compliment her were all the more rewarding. It was amazing to see what her brilliant mind could come up with in response to him. At some point, Abu reappeared from his sleeping space to join them. Aladdin was worried when he regarded her with the same distrust and distance that he showed the day they met, but he quickly warmed up when she pulled a pouch of dried raisins from her cloak.

The sun had dipped significantly below the horizon by the time she decided she had to get going. Aladdin’s heart was fuller than it had been in a long time. He felt at peace with himself and genuinely hopeful about the future. But as he was escorting her down the stairs and back in the alleyway, he couldn’t help but doubt again the practicality of making their friendship work. They had spoken about everything and were on good, more than okay, terms now, but what guarantee did he have that there would be another opportunity to hang out and be together?

“I’m sorry that I can’t stay longer,” she said, looking genuinely apologetic. “It’s not a good look for the Princess to be late for the _Maghrib_ prayer.”

“I’m glad you came anyway,” he replied. He frowned for a moment. “What should I call you? I mean, I don’t want to be disrespectful, but ‘Your Highness’ seems a bit too… distant? But if that’s what you’d prefer, then I’m okay with that too.”

She scrunched up her nose. “Please avoid my title whenever you can,” she said. “I hate hearing it outside of formal occasions. You can call me Jasmine.”

“Jasmine,” he repeated, trying her name out for himself. She smiled in a way that reached her eyes in response, and he couldn’t help but stand there wordlessly as his stomach swooped, dumbfounded by the sight. Not for the first time that evening, he questioned his ability to keep things platonic and friendly between them.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, reaching into her cloak pocket and pushing a cool metal object into his hand. He brought his hand up to his face to inspect it, but she quickly pushed it back down. “I don’t want to be here when you see what it is. But just so you know you still have the option of backing out just in case you realise being friends with the Princess is too much for you-”

“I doubt that,” he said.

“Or you, like me, would prefer to have some guarantee to meet again. Whatever you choose, I won’t hold it against you,” she said. Then she offered him another smile and said her goodbyes, quickly disappearing again into the street.

Aladdin looked down at the object in his hand, and raised his eyebrows in surprise. She really had thought of everything, and had prepared well. He vaguely wondered if this was something that came to her as easily as her ripostes, or if she had anguished a little more about how to approach their friendship. If he had any doubt before of her determination and intelligence when pursuing things she believed in, they were dispelled immediately.

In his hand was the hairpin he had returned to her the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you made it this far, thank you!! i know it was a bit of a read 😅
> 
> yeah, i originally envisioned this to be a series of short oneshots with some loose plot tying everything together, but clearly i cant follow instructions. usually when i come up with a chapter as lengthy as this one, i try to trim it down and make it more, ya know, straight to the point, but i thought id toss this out onto the internet and see what you guys think.
> 
> i should also point out that im NOT muslim, i did do a bit of research and spoke to some friends about how to write this but pls let me know if ive accidentally written something incorrect and ill fix it up right away. also, on that note, i should also say that the characters will mostly remain dressed as they were in the film just bc the fact we can see jasmine’s hair is kind of an important plot point in this chapter, although im keen to get them in some proper hijab clothing throughout the story. ik that’s a bold choice and i dont wanna be disrespectful so if youre muslim pls feel free to correct me (nicely pls lol) on that :)) let me know down in the comments!! 
> 
> also, not to plug but come visit me on TUMBLR!


	2. The People of the City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Third time this week, Jasmine. Careful. I might think you’re starting to miss me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone i've probably written about 50 versions of this chapter before i finally felt like it was ready to go out so im sorry about the delay, but she's finally here!! as always, im open to concrit (pls be nice though im shy)  
> hope you guys enjoy :))

‘Quiet’ was not a word Aladdin thought he’d ever come to associate with the marketplace below his tower. But in this moment as he rode out the nightmare and waited for the calm after the storm, there was little else he could anchor himself upon.

He rose from his tattered sheets and staggered towards the window ledge. The sky was beginning to brighten in anticipation of the sunrise. In the distance, he saw a flicker of movement on the grand balcony of the Palace.

 _“I actually like waking up before sunrise,” Jasmine had told him. “Even if I wasn’t the Princess and obligated to be present for the_ Fajr _, it wouldn’t feel right to be missing this.”_

 _“_ This _?” Aladdin had asked._

_Then she smiled at him, a real smile that revealed true and unfettered happiness. “This,” she affirmed, gesturing around them. “The quiet.”_

Aladdin had learned the hard way that the eerie silence of an Agraban night was no safe place for a child off his guard. But as he watched over the marketplace in its stillness, he found himself, for the first time in years, relishing the simple serenity of his home city at peace.

* * *

 By morning, the marketplace was teeming with its usual liveliness and vigour. It was a more familiar scene to Aladdin and it usually lifted his spirits, but he had also been awake long enough to watch the moon traverse the sky and fade in the light of the dawn. He hadn’t had any nightmares about _that_ night in many months— almost a year. He should’ve known better than to get his hopes up.

There had been plans today for him and Abu to sneak into the makeshift tent at the edge of the city and hopefully steal some rice from one of the foreign merchants that had arrived a few days ago. But his lack of sleep had put a damper on his energy levels; he was sloppy on his feet when he had to outrun a lawman earlier in the day. It would’ve taken his full focus to break into a place as well guarded as that, so he opted to send Abu ahead with a few gold coins whilst he waited around on the streets in the main market area.

Amongst the throng of the crowd, he caught sight of a woman covered from head to toe, wearing a plain brown shift and a hijab covering her hair. He let his eyes stay on her for a moment, something tugging at the back of his mind at the familiarity of her movements across the market. She seemed to mainly stick to herself, but she also stopped a few times to chat with a few shop-keepers and market-goers. Finally, Aladdin caught a glimpse of her face, immediately recognising her dark eyes, her golden skin, her controlled smile.

A rush of excitement immediately washed over him and he leapt to his feet in anticipation, smiling. A pang of nausea filled his head as he did so and he thought that maybe he vaguely thought that maybe he should’ve been a little kinder to his body, but then she caught his gaze and Aladdin didn’t care anymore. Her eyes lit up with excitement and she beamed at him. In spite of himself, his stomach swooped giddily at having caught her attention, and he watched as she excused herself from whatever conversation she’d been in to hurriedly make her way towards him. It had been a few weeks now since they became friends, and although they had both settled comfortably into their (mostly) platonic dynamic, her presence still made him a little dizzy sometimes.

“Third time this week, Jasmine,” he said rakishly as she got closer. “Careful. I might think you’re starting to miss me.”

The corners of her lips barely twitched as she struggled to keep her expression indifferent. “Isn’t it fortunate, then, that you have me _here_ in the flesh to strongly reassure you that you have nothing to worry about,” she replied, mirth entering her eyes.

“There’s nothing to worry about, either way,” he answered easily. “None of my thoughts of you are ever a burden on my mind.”

She looked at him quizzically. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you _burdened_ in the whole time we’ve known each other,” she said, more as an observation to herself than anything else.

It was the perfect opening, and the best part was that she had set it up for him. Aladdin flashed her a charming smile and took a slow step forward and into her personal space. She allowed him to come close and held his gaze with amusement as she watched him, but Aladdin didn’t miss the way her cheeks darkened as he came closer.

“That’s because you’re always on my mind.”

There was silence for a moment and her eyes seemed to search his. Then her eyebrows twitched upwards and a small smile cracked through her veneer of coolness. “That was really cheesy,” she said, her voice a little strained. “But the confidence of your delivery?” She took a step back and schooled her features into a more controlled expression of amusement. “I’ll give you credit for that.”

He bowed playfully, beaming. “Thank you! You know, you’re the only person who gets to hear these so it truly means a lot,” he said.

Jasmine rolled her eyes in amusement. Then she seemed to remember something, and began to search around him. “Hey, where’s Abu?”

From behind her, he saw the little monkey bounding through the crowd of people, a small pouch secured around his neck. Aladdin stepped forward and waved him down, immediately drawing his attention. Even from a distance, Aladdin could see him chittering with excitement as he leapt towards them. He bent down as Abu got closer, scooping him up and petting his back. “Good job, buddy!” he said, unfastening the pouch.

“I sent him to the foreign tent this morning to grab some of this,” he told Jasmine, setting Abu down and pulling back the drawstring of the pouch.

Jasmine peered over and looked inside. “Rice?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him quizzically.

“I know it doesn’t look like much, but this is some quality rice, all the way from the fields of Skanland. It takes the least amount of water to cook, and this much can last Abu and I for the next two weeks,” he explained, closing it back up and putting it in his pocket.

She made a noise of surprise. “Skanland, huh? You mean the nation led by a prince who doesn’t seem to have a clue about the imports and exports of his country?”

He words pulled a familiar piece of information from the back of his mind. “Oh! That’s where Prince Anders is from?”

Aladdin had heard plenty about the ‘dim-witted prince’ from Jasmine over the past few weeks; his bumbling demeanour during meetings with the Sultan, his over dependence on his advisors and viziers, his keen interest in holding Jasmine’s attention instead of focusing on negotiating trade arrangements. He had encountered the prince once during his grandiose entrance through the city and towards the Palace when one of his guards had almost trampled over some children. He’d gotten a little too defensive when his guards had insulted him, and it had sent him into a downward spiral for almost the rest of the day. It wasn’t something he liked to remember.

She nodded and sighed. “One of our biggest trading partners,” she said tiredly, moving over to sit on a stone bench nearby. “Which means the whole palace is at his mercy to keep him satisfied whilst he’s here.”

Aladdin joined her on the bench. “Hey, at least it’s only for a few more weeks, right? Just hang in there,” he said.

“It’s more than just another trade negotiation this time, though,” she said, turning to face him properly. “He’s also here as a suitor. Time’s running out, and everyone’s expecting me to-” Her mouth slammed shut and she looked away determinedly. Aladdin let her have her silence for a few moments, hesitant to push her. This wasn’t the first time she held herself back from telling him something, especially when it came to serious talk about suitors. He could see that she was clearly burdened by whatever it was she hid from him, and it frustrated him to no end that there was little he could do to cheer her up, but he also didn’t want to pry if she wasn’t ready. After all, there were some things he wasn’t ready to tell her either.

Just when the silence was beginning to get awkward, Abu suddenly screeched and leapt onto her lap, aggressively sniffing through her clothes. In an instant, Aladdin scooped him off of her, embarrassed. “Abu!” he scolded, holding him firmly as he squirmed in his arms.

But Jasmine didn’t seem too bothered. Instead, she chuckled and produced a small bag of nuts from within a hidden fold in her shift. Upon seeing the bag, Abu ripped himself free from Aladdin’s grip and snatched the bag out of her hand, jumping off her lap and attacking the nuts on the floor before them. Jasmine giggled again as she watched him pick them off like his life depended on it. “I was starting to wonder when he’d realise I had food for him. I thought he’d notice a lot sooner,” she remarked, the tension slipping from her features.

“Don’t underestimate him,” Aladdin said. “He’s really smart. He’s even managed to fool me a couple of times.”

Jasmine gave him a sidelong look. “Like that one time he allegedly stole my mother’s bracelet?” she teased.

Aladdin groaned. “Will you ever let that go?”

She giggled in response. “You already know the answer to that.”

“Hey, I returned it in the end, didn’t I?” he protested.

“And then you stole my hairpin!”

He turned to face her fully, their knees touching now, and smirked. “I don’t regret that,” he declared.

Jasmine pretended to be offended, her mouth hanging agape, and slapped his shoulder lightly, and Aladdin couldn’t help but laugh. “In fairness, though!” he said, raising his arm defensively to catch her next blow. “I did return it the next day, like I promised.”

She huffed and playfully pretended to consider his words. “That’s true, I guess. And you haven’t stolen anything else from me since then-” She noticed the mischievous look in his eyes at once and quickly added, “Don’t say it!”

Aladdin held his hands up in surrender. “You’re getting too quick for me,” he said, grinning in amusement.

“Ugh, more like I’m spending too much time with you,” she corrected, making a face. “I can’t believe I’m wasting precious brain cells anticipating your cheesy pick up lines.”

“You like my cheesy pick up lines, admit it. It’s okay, I promise I won’t tell anyone,” he teased.

Jasmine looked at him for a moment, mirth in her eyes, but kept her mouth shut. It was the most of a reaction he’d get out of her. They sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, with Aladdin stealing glances at her when he was sure she wasn’t looking. Not for the first time, he felt a deep sense of contentedness settle over him. As much as he enjoyed testing his boundaries and seeing what kind of reaction he’d get from her with his flirting, _this_ was by far the best part about being with her. The moments when everything else had been stripped away and all that was left was the simplicity of existing unreservedly with her.

Abu eventually finished off his nuts and tugged on Jasmine’s clothes, his eyes imploring for more. Jasmine picked him up and held him in her lap, stroking his back. “Sorry, Abu, I don’t have anymore for today,” she said. He looked up at her for a moment, almost recognising her words, before quickly settling back to a comfortable position on her lap. She glanced over at Aladdin and smiled a little sadly. “I wish I could do this forever,” she said. “I doubt I’ll get the chance to simply hang out with my friends from the market when I’m married.”

Aladdin frowned and looked over at her curiously. “Why would you say that? I mean, I don’t know much about marriage, but I don’t think it’s supposed to shackle you down,” he said. “Well, I suppose there will be limitations, but I don’t think you’re supposed to _feel_ shackled down. Isn’t your father letting you choose your husband?” 

“It’s not my father that’s the problem,” she said. “It’s the whole-” She gestured all around her with her arms. “ _System_. Especially for someone born to be part of governing the country, like me. Marriage is just another duty for me. My mother was lucky enough to actually fall in love with my father before they were married, but that didn’t stop her from being limited in what she could do. You know, she wasn’t even allowed to visit Sherebad, _her own home country_ , without my father’s approval. I don’t think she ever had any reason to complain about it, but it’s still unfair. And even though they loved each other, that marriage was still first and foremost a duty.” Abu had crawled off of her lap as she started shifting around, and had wandered off to find something else to entertain himself. She was getting animated now, her brows creased in frustration, her eyes fiercely determined. “I know I have a duty to marry someone who will be a good fit for my people, but being of royal descent doesn’t guarantee that.  _Ya Allah_ , just look at Prince Anders!”

Aladdin considered her words for a minute. “You have to marry a prince?” he asked quietly.

She made a gesture with her arms. “Apparently so! I don’t want it to be _just_ that, though. An obligation as the Princess.”

“What else do you want your marriage to be?” 

She scoffed. “For starters, I actually want to _love_ the person I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with. My parents got that part of it right,” she said. “And secondly, I want it to be _my_ choice. Not just the person I marry, but also _when_ it happens and _how_ it works. Agrabah won’t go up in flames if it doesn’t have a foreign prince sitting on its throne. And I don’t want to feel trapped in my marriage. I want my marriage to be something that _adds_ to my life, not something that takes my freedoms away. I want it to be something I actually _want_ , not the only thing I aspire towards just because that’s what every Princess has done before,” She sighed tiredly. “I feel like no one at the Palace understands that,” she admitted.

Aladdin was quiet for a few more moments. “Is that why you’ve been getting frustrated so easily with Prince Anders and all the other suitors that have come before him?” he asked.

Jasmine met his gaze wearily. She smiled a small smile in apology. “I’m sorry, Aladdin,” she said gently. “I know I complain a lot about things going on in the Palace, yet don’t give you all the details. Believe me, it’s annoying for me too. You’ve been so patient with me about this, even though sometimes I don’t think I deserve it.”

He reached out and carefully took her hand in his, bringing it to his lap. He didn’t miss the way her eyes shifted towards their hands in surprise before they returned to his face. “I’m not annoyed,” he said. “Not at you, anyway. There are some boundaries you want to maintain between your duties at the Palace and your downtime here with me, and I completely respect that. And even though I do wish I could be of more help to you, I know that if there’s anyone who can handle it, it’s you.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “You deserve to find what you’re looking for, and I know you’ll figure it out.”

She held his gaze for a few moments, her eyes searching his for something he couldn’t decipher. Then her eyes softened and the barest trace of a smile appeared on her lips. “You’re too good for me,” she said softly. Aladdin couldn’t help but return her smile. Then she pulled her hand out of his grasp and smirked.  I’m sure _you_ , at least, won’t have any problems winning over a wife if you decide you want to marry.”

Aladdin barked out a laugh. “You don’t need to say that,” he said. “Just because I’m being nice, doesn’t mean you’re obligated to reassure me back.”

Jasmine looked at him with genuine confusion on her features. “What do you mean? I’m being serious,” she said. She faced him fully, earnesty in her eyes. “You’re a really good guy, Aladdin. Any woman would be lucky to have you, if that’s what you truly want.”

That caught him off guard. He propped up a leg on the bench and leaned on his knee, turning his gaze out towards the crowds. Marriage wasn’t a completely foreign concept to him; he’d caught glimpses of the festivities held by various couples since he was young and had even been hold enough to join a few when couples drunk with merriment took pity on a starving boy. But he’d never given himself the chance to consider it for himself. 

“I’ve never really thought about it,” he said slowly. “You know, for pretty much my whole life, no one has ever really… _wanted_ … me.” 

 _Not since my mother_. 

The unwarranted thought came to him before he could register it, and he pursed his lips tightly, forcing himself to keep the rush of emotions he refused to name in check. He swallowed hard and kept his mouth shut, afraid of what else might come out.

He had learned far too early in life what it meant to be a burden to others. No one dared to take him in once his mother passed away for reasons Aladdin still didn’t understand, and even passing neighbours who showed their pity with leftover food and change regarded him with caution. The vicious experiences he’d had to face on the streets became his teacher, ruthless and unforgiving in its lessons of survival. He’d been forced to become clever, to outsmart his predators before they could catch him, to abandon his wide-eyed wonder for the world if he wanted to stay alive. Things that the other kids enjoyed without a second thought— food on their table, the simple freedom to play in the streets without having to constantly watch their backs, the guarantee of having _people_ to rely on, quickly became luxuries Aladdin couldn’t afford. 

But the worst part of it all was his near invisibility to the world. Sure, he still had the freedom to do as he pleased, to shout as much as he wanted into the wilderness. But did that truly mean anything if the only response he received was the echo of his own voice? When the only way he’d ever hear the stirring of nature was when purposely went against himself and became a burden, bringing trouble to everything he touched?

Aladdin was only just getting acquainted with the concept of friendship; of true companionship with a _real person_ who truly understood and acknowledged his existence beyond his ability to provide a means of survival. _Marriage_ , on the other hand, the prospect of having someone _want_ him enough to _willingly_ _spend_ _the rest of their lives with him_? It was a luxury that, if ever he possessed it, he’d abandoned a long time ago.

He was pulled out of his spiral when he felt her arms around his back, her hands gently guiding his head towards the nook in her shoulder. “Oh, Aladdin,” she murmured, her voice barely reverberating throughout her chest. “You must’ve been so lonely.”

Suddenly, it was like a dam burst in his chest. For the first time in years, he registered a tidal wave of deep-rooted pain from all the grievances he’d been piling up and pushing down over the years. It washed over him and pulled him under completely, tugging at the corners of his mind that he had become a stranger to, calling forth an outpouring of immense sadness that chilled him to his core. He curled into himself and rode out the wave, clinging to _her_ for anchorage. He was coming undone right in her arms, but she was holding the pieces together. It was a sensation both entirely new to him, and strangely _right_. Almost as if he was returning home.

When he could make sense of his surroundings again, he noticed a slight dampness on his cheek. He could feel the pressure of Jasmine’s arms around his back, the slow rhythm of her fingers on his shoulders. Her grip loosened slightly, as if she could sense that the worst had passed, but her arms remained around him. “You okay?” she asked gently.

Aladdin sniffed and hastily wiped away the single tear from his cheek, leaning out of her grasp and nodding. “Thank you,” he said quietly, not quite meeting her eyes. “I-” He pursed his lips. “You… you weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Hey.” He felt her fingers on his cheek, guiding his gaze towards hers. Her dark eyes were filled with warmth and understanding. “It’s okay to feel things that you don’t want to feel from time to time. It doesn’t make you broken, or any less of a person just because you have these kinds of emotions.”

He was quiet for a few moments. “What does that make me, then?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She gave him the barest of smiles. “The strongest person I know,” she answered with a gentle confidence.

He had been insecure about himself in comparison to her since the very beginning. But somehow, she always managed to pull him back to the surface when he began to slip, to remind him that she was more than the sum of her strengths, and that he had chosen her just as much as she had chosen him.

Aladdin took her hand from his face and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “What did I do to deserve you,” he murmured against her fingers.

She giggled and laced her fingers through his, shifting closer until their shoulders were touching. “Asking the real questions there,” she teased. She glanced at him for a moment, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “But I could ask the same about you.”

In an instant, he felt a rush of heat to his cheeks. He looked away bashfully, feeling awkward all of a sudden. It was almost embarrassing how easily he was reduced to a flustering mess at her words. Although it wasn’t quite the same context, he immediately understood how Jasmine might’ve felt each time he dropped an unexpected pickup line, and respected her all the more for her ability to control how she physically reacted.

He was pulled out of his panic when Jasmine started laughing at him, unbridled and all natural. “Your face!” she choked out in between laughs. “ _ _Subhanallah,__  I wish I could have someone do a painting!”

Aladdin quickly composed himself and put up a front of offence, letting go of her hand. “This is bullying in its highest form, and I hope you know that,” he said, but he couldn’t help but smile. It was embarrassing that she had caught him in the act, but he didn’t mind making a fool out of himself if it meant that she got a laugh out of it.

“I don’t think I’ve seen _anyone_ turn red as fast as you did!” she continued. “And then you were all like-” She made an exaggerated expression of shock so ridiculous, Aladdin had to laugh as well.

“I do not look like that!” he protested.

“You do!”

There was silence for a moment, before they both caught each other sneaking a look, and burst out laughing again.

It was almost beyond his realm of acceptance, how natural it felt to be with her, how easily they could flow from talking about their frustrations and deepest weaknesses to each other, to their usual light-hearted banter and flirting. Not only did she have the natural wit to match him in conversation, but she understood him almost intuitively in no way that anyone else had. He didn’t have a lot of experience of friendship, but he couldn’t imagine it got much better than what he had with Jasmine. And even though those dark moments when his insecurities played up were inevitable, he was starting to grow confident in his own ability to assuage them on his own.

Eventually as the sun neared its peak, Abu returned from whatever adventure had caught his attention, chittering panickedly about a crowd of lawmen roaming the streets. Needless to say, he hadn’t been able to tell them exactly what they were after, but Jasmine quickly guessed that her time away from the Palace had been spent, and that she was needed back.

“Let me know what courtship gifts Prince Anders got you,” he teased. “I need to know how I can up my game.”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Don’t even joke about that,” she replied, thinly veiled mirth in her eyes. Then, with a final parting hug and the promise to see him again soon, she had disappeared back into the crowd of the marketplace.

* * *

Some days, Aladdin didn’t get so lucky.

The days were shorter during this time of year and it wasn’t long after the sun had reached its peak in the sky that it was already well on its way to descent. The main city, although by no means asleep and silent, had thinned out significantly as customers and shop-keepers packed up for the day. It was his cue to raise his guard and anticipate whatever the city might throw at him, but for reasons he didn’t know, Allah had not willed it. Maybe it was the sluggish feeling of not having slept properly the night before that dulled his senses. Maybe it was the high spirits his time with Jasmine had placed him in, the too optimistic mood he’d been in. Whatever the reason, he had slipped up. And now, he was paying the price for his mistake.

He kept his features blank as the three lawmen had their turn at beating him to a pulp. _Don’t give them any reason to prolong it_ , he had learned. Even when he began to heave blood and his knees buckled out from under him, he didn’t dare show as much as a wince. Let them have their fun. Fortunately, he still had some healing salves from the last time he had jumped him back at his tower. There wasn’t much left, which meant that he’d have to be extra vigilant in how he held himself until later in the year, when he could acquire some more.

When Jasmine returned to the Palace, he was sure the lawmen that Abu had spotted earlier would follow suite. But instead, they lingered around like a pack of wolves that had yet to decide whether to attack. Lawmen in the marketplace wasn’t anything new to the people of Agrabah or to Aladdin; no one paid them too much attention and made sure to stay out of trouble in their presence. But as the crowd slowly trickled away with the setting sun, it became clear to him that they were looking for a fight.

Just a few feet from him, Abu lay unconscious, yet thankfully, not too harmed. Scattered about his feet was the rice that he’d sent Abu to trade for with some gold coins. As he struggled on the stone floor, he vaguely wondered if it’d still be edible if he collected and washed the grains thoroughly when all this was done. 

Although it was, for once, a legal transaction, the lawmen refused to hear reason. Aladdin had been alone and off his guard, with nothing but his reputation as the trouble-making street rat to precede him. He was an easy target.

“Hey, let’s bring this one to the dock afterwards. He’s always gotten on my nerves, and there’s a ship headed north for the alps tonight.”

His blood suddenly ran cold as the image of the nightmare flashed into his mind.

***

 _Aladdin kicked and screamed as much as his little arms and legs allowed him as he was passed over to the men cloaked in black. He stared back at the man and woman who he’d been led to believe would become his new mother and father, pleading with them to_ help him _but they only watched him with nothingness in their eyes. Only a few hours ago had they been full of kind words, promising him a life of safety and warmth. Deep down inside, he knew it was useless, he’d be tossed onto the looming ship at the dock and whisked away to another land far from the only home he knew._

***

White hot fear overcame every function in Aladdin’s body, stripping down all else except the need to _escape_. He bucked around, lashing out at whoever came near like a wild animal, barely registering the tenfold pain from the lawmen’s strikes in retaliation.

It was happening again. 

He screamed at the top of his lungs for mercy until a gag was roughly pushed in his mouth. They held him upright for a moment to bind his feet and hands together before tossing him back onto the ground like a sack of produce, and resumed beating him up. 

Aladdin was just about ready to give up when all of a sudden, the blows stopped. He lowered his head onto the pavement, the darkness of exhaustion quickly closing in.

In the fuzziness of his memory, he saw a figure in the distance take the place of the lawmen around him, hastily approaching him. He vaguely remembered being able to move a bit as the ropes around him were untied. His body ached all over, and he was quickly losing the ability to keep his eyes open.

 _This is it_ , he thought hazily, and let his eyes flutter shut.

Although Aladdin had often thought himself favoured by luck, he knew that one day, his luck was bound to run out.

* * *

 In the silence of the Palace when she was sure all the servants were asleep, Jasmine rose from her bed. She had gotten good at timing her sleep throughout the years so that she’d wake when the Palace was at its most quiet, but instead of heading towards the wall beyond her garden, she weaved throughout the darkened hallways towards the records room.

She couldn’t get the image of Aladdin’s broken figure out of her head; the blank look in his eyes as the lawmen beat him up, the sickening crunch of something breaking when they retaliated to his outburst. If Dalia hadn’t convinced her to accompany Prince Anders for a ride around the city to make up for the lunch she had missed with him, she didn’t know what would’ve happened. She didn’t _want_ to know what would’ve happened.

Thank Allah, he was in a much better state when she had left him later in the evening, and Abu seemed to know how to look after him. But that didn’t change the fact that what happened to him should never have happened. Her father might be a little less attentive to the people than she would’ve liked, but he’d _never_ let one of his lawmen treat a citizen, even a criminal, like that. He’d always been hesitant to violence, always reminding Jasmine that every problem could be solved by sitting down and talking it out.

The Agraban colours the lawmen had been wearing were unmistakable. They were definitely operating under the authority of someone on the Sultan’s council.

When the guards were busy changing shifts, Jasmine felt around for the secret entrance into the records room, eventually locating the hidden door and slipping inside. As she stepped into the records room and closed the door behind her, she thanked Allah that she had actually paid attention when one of her father’s lower ministers had showed her how the documents were organised. It was a huge space, spanning almost three levels, and fortunately she knew exactly what she was looking for.

The lawmen had been garbed in Agraban colours, but there was something else. A distinct emblem of a cobra with its hood flared adorned their breast pockets. She was sure she’d seen it around before, but the memory escaped her.

She eventually located the scroll she was looking for and slipped it within her sleeve, quickly disappearing back through the secret doorway and hurrying towards her room. She had had her suspicions about who commanded those lawmen, and seeing the name written in the scroll had only reaffirmed them. But now that she knew, things would only get harder. She would have to be clever and patient about this.

If Ja’far could bide his time in the shadows, discreetly moving the pieces around to his liking, then so could she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooo is that an ~actual~ plot i see towards the end??? political intrigue stuff has always been one of my favourite things to explore in stories but im also a firm believer of meticulous planning for that kind of stuff, which i haven't done for this story 😅 you guys can expect a bit more of that in later chapters, but not too much that it detracts from aladdin and jasmine's relationship. i still fully intend for this story to focus on that, any mentions of political plotty stuff is there to firstly (and hopefully??) further develop their characters. also can anyone guess the pickup line aladdin was thinking of before jasmine interrupted him? it's honestly super cheesy and enough to make me cringe too bc i'm not the most creative with pickup lines but that's not gonna stop me lmao  
> COME VISIT ME ON TUMBLR


	3. Welfare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The confidence in how she carried herself and the gleam of self assurance in her eyes, these were things that distinctly belonged to her. It was one of the many things about her that he adored. She was born to change the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (shuffles into the light and throws this out into the internet) HI HELLO SO I'M BACK WITH A NEW CHAPTER. before i say anything else, i wanna say a HUGE thank you to [lenaval](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenaval/pseuds/lenaval) for beta-ing for me and being a super cool person in general. writing a fic with muslim characters set in a fictional islamic country is (just a little bit) intimidating for a non-muslim potato like me, and she's been GREAT at helping me make this story as respectful and authentic as possible. she's also writing a fic for Aladdin as well so go check her out!!
> 
> i also wanna say thank you to everyone who's been commenting and leaving kudos on this. it literally makes my day every time i see a notification from you guys, and i love hearing back from you!! keep doing that!!
> 
> also, one last thing before the chapter (I KNOW IM SORRY) i left you guys with a question last chapter: what was aladdin's pickup line before jasmine interrupted him? its really bad, pls dont hate me bUT HERE'S HOW it would've read if he actually got the chance to finish!  
> \--  
> “And then you stole my hairpin!”
> 
> He turned to face her fully, their knees touching now, and smirked. “I don’t regret that,” he declared.
> 
> Jasmine pretended to be offended, her mouth hanging agape, and slapped his shoulder lightly, and Aladdin couldn’t help but laugh. “In fairness, though!” he said, raising his arm defensively to catch her next blow. “I did return it the next day, like I promised.”
> 
> She huffed and playfully pretended to consider his words. “That’s true, I guess. And you haven’t stolen anything else from me since then.”
> 
> He flashed her a charming smile, grasping the opportunity as soon as he saw it. "Except for your heart."

There were seldom any windows in this corner of the Princess’ private library. Usually, Aladdin dreaded such spaces; he had always been built for the freedom of the streets, wide open windows and starlit skies. But for some inexplicable reason, he felt full of warmth within this small and secluded space away from the world, behind shelves of books and scrolls.

Just a few metres away from him sat Jasmine at her study, glowing in the candlelight. Her features were set in focus as she studied the books before her, but her eyes held no less of the fiery determination he had come to grow familiar with. Her hair flowed freely down to her waist; he noticed she barely wore a hijab around the Palace unless she had to present herself before royal guests or other prominent people, but some sections were secured by the hairpin he had stolen and returned to her. She had also been wearing that more often lately when she opted to have her hair out. It didn’t escape Aladdin’s notice, and although he didn’t like making assumptions, the prospect that _maybe_ he had something to do with it made him feel jittery in the best way possible. 

Well, maybe the reason wasn’t so inexplicable, after all. 

The corners of her lips twitched into a smirk. “You’ve been staring since I spent my second candle,” she said, not taking her eyes off of her books.

Aladdin snorted a laugh, not even ashamed at having been caught, and leaned forward across the table, grinning rakishly. “Sorry, am I distracting you, Princess?” 

Her eyes flicked up to him in mild shock and she scoffed at the use of her title. He had been bolder with how he teased her recently, using formalities whenever she even remotely mentioned her duties. Although there were still times when his heart beat a little faster around her, there was a comfortable sense of intimacy between them now, having been friends for almost three months.

“You know, as your _Princess,_  I can forbid you from entering _my_ private study whilst I am occupied with matters concerning the welfare of _your_ neighbourhood,” she said, her voice every bit as regal as if she was addressing a crowd.

Aladdin raised his eyebrows and put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Of course, forgive me for my insolence,” he teased. She made a noise of satisfaction and turned her attention back to her books. He smirked. “ _Your Highness._ ”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his again and she glared at him warningly. “ _Aladdin._ ”

He chuckled and leaned back in his seat. “Alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said. “Shutting up now.”

Jasmine sighed tiredly and let her eyes wander back to her books. “I’m starting to regret introducing you to Dalia,” she muttered, more to herself than to him.

He pretended to be offended, exaggeratedly gasping in shock. “Hey, don’t do Dalia dirty like that. She’s a wonderful woman who I really respect,” he said. Jasmine only rolled her eyes in response, and they fell into a comfortable silence again.

Aladdin had encountered Dalia once when he first snuck into the Palace and was still under the impression that she was the Princess. He didn’t really notice much of her then, except for her seeming absentmindedness with her own pet tiger. But as he came to know Jasmine better, he hadn’t really spared her a second thought until a few weeks later when they had been formally introduced to each other.

When he had recovered enough from the lawmen’s blows to go back to roaming the streets, Jasmine had made the trek to the marketplace with Dalia. She had an odd manner of talking to him that Aladdin couldn’t describe as anything other than _direct_ , and if he was being honest, it was a little scary at first. But as she got used to seeing him around, she eventually warmed up to him.

He had no problem seeing why Dalia was Jasmine’s best friend. It was obvious from the onset that they cared a lot for each other, and that they had a whole lifetime of friendship behind them. And once she had warmed up to him, Dalia was quick to assuage his worries about how he’d fit into that, and made him feel welcome. Mostly by teasing Jasmine relentlessly, especially about her privileges as the Princess.

Aladdin turned his attention back to the woman sitting before him, eyeing her books curiously. There were a few maps and other strange symbols on the pages, but for the most part, it was filled with words that were indecipherable to him unless he focused really hard. He swallowed and looked up at her again. “If I’m seriously being distracting, I can leave you alone,” he said after a moment. “You know that, right?”

Jasmine glanced up and gave him a small smile. “I know,” she said, her eyes sparkling softly in the candlelight. “It’s okay, though. I’ve been working on this proposal for the past week, and I haven’t really gotten very far. Thought having some company might help me out. But it’s alright, I think I’ll finish up soon and try again in the morning when my mind is fresher. It is getting pretty late.” She sighed softly. “I wanted to have at least an outline done to show Mozenrath tomorrow. Hopefully something will come to me before the evening.”

He frowned at the mention of the young advisor. There had been a lot he’d heard about him from the stories she’d tell of the going-ons of her father’s council. Although she seemed to be indifferent about Mozenrath, Aladdin immediately picked up on the little details about the advisor’s behaviour that struck him as suspicious. He asked her once about it, but she had dismissed it as part of what made the political wheel turn. He trusted her judgement above his—she was royalty, after all, and was more familiar with the workings of the Palace than he was—but he’d never been able to rid himself completely of that suspicion.

“Mozenrath? Why are you working for him?” Aladdin asked.

“I’m working _with_ him,” she corrected. “Or at least, trying to.” She put her quill down, laying it neatly on top of her parchment. “It’s still a few months before I’m due to present myself to my father’s council, but the process of rallying support needs to start immediately. I need allies to get my proposal accepted and enshrined into legislation, and Mozenrath’s my best option. He’s the youngest advisor on the Sultan’s Council and a lot more open-minded than the others, and he seems to be interested in making Agrabah a welfare state as well.”

“He also has a lot of conditions,” Aladdin pointed out. “Weren’t you telling Dalia and I the other day about how Vizier Nasir had to rewrite a third of his proposal after negotiating with Mozenrath? And how even your father thought that that was excessive?”

“That’s just the way politics works,” Jasmine said. “And Nasir’s bill was very flawed, there was no way Baba would pass it without a few adjustments.”

“That may be true,” Aladdin said. “But how about how he responded to you when you first enquired about the procedures of getting an audience with the Council? What did he say?”

She folded her hands together on top of the desk. “He asked me why I was interested, but that’s hardly a cause for suspicion. People are allowed to be curious.”

He scoffed and leaned over the table. From what she told him, Aladdin had never had much of a reason to trust him. But now that she had finally taken strides in her goal of affecting change in Agrabah, he refused to sit by and watch as an obviously manipulative and power-hungry advisor jeopardised her hard work.

“Jasmine, you are the _Princess of Agrabah,_ ” he said, holding her gaze with intensity. “You have a _right_ to know about the proceedings of your father’s court _without question_. None of your servants doubt your instructions when you ask for something. And I bet that _no one_ on the Sultan’s Council would be so bold as to question the Sultan as directly as Mozenrath questioned you, if he was doing the same.” He took a breath and leaned back in his seat. “I know it isn’t the same, but I’ve dealt with shop-keepers and lawmen with that sort of disposition before. I’ve been taken advantage of and manipulated by people just like him.” He pursed his lips and let his eyes wander for a moment. “Call it what you will; political shrewdness or deceit. But what’s underneath all that, what _drives_ that sort of carefully crafted behaviour, is the _arrogance_ of someone who thinks they are above you.”

Aladdin turned his gaze back to her, imploring her with every fibre of his being. “This is your world, Jasmine. You know how it works a lot better than I do. But _please_.” She watched him wordlessly, but he knew she was listening. “Don’t let your guard down around Mozenrath. You’ve worked so hard to get this opportunity. Don’t let anyone ruin it for you.”

Her expression was mostly inscrutable, but he could now detect the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. Even though she was more than capable of making her own choices, he still worried about her.

After what seemed like an eternity, she said, “Okay.”

He looked at her in surprise. “Okay?” he echoed, hesitant to believe that she had accepted what he had to say so easily.

She offered him a reassuring smile. “Yeah. Now that I think about it, you’re right. Every amendment he’s managed to push for with the bills that the other advisors have introduced to the council have always somehow benefited him. And if I make him one of my primary allies now as I start to take on more responsibilities in government, I’m going to be bound to him forever. Once he’s secured my trust, he’ll start pushing for compromises and amendments in future proposals I bring forward, just like what he’s done with the other advisors. That’s probably what he wants,” she said. 

Then she sighed tiredly and rubbed her temples. “So I guess now, I really don’t have anything. No ideas for an outline, no potential allies to help me campaign. And I’ve already wasted a week.”

Aladdin reached over the table and took one of her hands, bringing it to the middle of the table. “Hey,” he said, drawing her attention. He held her gaze. “You haven’t wasted anything. These things are a process and they’ll take time to develop. Just because you don’t have anything written down, it doesn’t mean you haven’t made any progress. For starters, at least now you know that you can’t make Mozenrath a primary ally.”

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “And I appreciate that you’re trying to cheer me up, but I’ve never taken this long to get _started_ on a project. I don’t know what it is; maybe I’m nervous about trying to get this right. Either way, it’s still a little frustrating and disappointing.”

He let go of her hand and shuffled his seat a bit closer to the table. “Alright, what’s your proposal for, anyway?” he asked. Then he snorted a laugh. “For all this talk about not trusting Mozenrath, I guess I should’ve asked first what your plans are.”

Her eyes darted to his, and he saw a flicker of wariness. He supposed that should be expected; he had never been to the Palace before he met her, and everything he knew about the responsibilities of governing a country came from her stories when they saw each other. He had been so eager to offer his help that he forgot that he was hardly qualified to be doing so in the first place. But before he could acknowledge that and apologise for his boldness, the wariness in her eyes disappeared, and she spoke.

“Some building works to improve the welfare of the main city area,” she replied after a moment. “Our economy is thriving and we have an excellent relationship with our major trading partners. We are predicted to continue growing over the next few years. But for all this talk of growth, everyone on my father’s council seems to have forgotten about the people. The people who fuel our economy and make it possible for Agrabah to grow. _Our_ people, who have to labour under the heat just to get in and out of the city, or have to worry about providing food for their families every night, or even where they’ll get fresh drinking water every week.” She was talking animatedly now. “For a group of men who like to harp on about _efficiency_ , they sure are advocating some pretty unsustainable policy decisions. I mean, what’s the point of all this expansion in our economy if our people don’t get a share in our successes? It doesn’t make any sense to me.”

In moments like these, there was little else Aladdin could do but nod along and agree. As Jasmine grew more comfortable with letting him into her world of politics, the more he found himself lending an ear to her ideas for the country. Although there was a lot he didn’t understand, he never tired of hearing her talk about it. There was a lot he learned from her, and he found himself actually starting to follow along a little better each time. (And he loved seeing how her eyes lit up with vigour, and hearing the fiery passion in her voice.)

She sighed in exhaustion. “There’s so much to be done, and I just don’t know where to start,” she admitted.

“Hey, that’s not true,” he said, reaching over the table and squeezing her hand for a moment. “You just mentioned like, three really good ideas.”

Jasmine shook her head. “I don’t know, they’re all issues that need to be addressed, but they’re also long-term and high cost sort of projects. It would take years to build high quality roadways from the regional areas of Agrabah to the city, and that would entail further expenses as well for maintenance, management, amongst other things. And bringing up the issue of the overall living standard of the people so they don’t have to worry about meals is sure to open up a whole new can of worms,” she said. “This is my first proposal to the Sultan’s council. I want to ease my way into their favour with something a little more achievable.”

“What about getting everyone access to fresh water?” Aladdin asked. “Is that something you can do?”

She held his gaze curiously for a moment. He watched her eyes glaze over as she chased down an idea, the gears practically turning in her head. Her eyebrows twitched in realisation and she gasped, quickly pulling out a blank piece of parchment with newfound urgency. He watched her silently as she scribbled something at the top of the page, and then filled the space underneath with dot points and words. She didn’t look up again until she approached the bottom of the page, frowning to herself in thought before writing something down.

Aladdin peered over the table and tried to make out the words at the top. He vaguely recognised the letters spelling out _‘water’,_ with its straight lines and soft curves, but the rest of the letters confounded him.

“It says _Water System Proposal_ ,” came Jasmine’s voice.

He looked up and found her staring at him strangely. It wasn’t entirely hostile, but the hair on his neck pricked uncomfortably under her gaze. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yeah, of course. It’s just… a little hard to read in the dark,” he said. “Anyways, so what’ve you got?”

Although her expression brightened immediately, the strange look didn’t disappear completely from her eyes. “There’s a growing nation in the west, a few days travel through the Mediterranean, that visited Agrabah earlier this year. They told us about their system of underground pipes that collected water from one of their rivers and distributed it to fountains at strategic points throughout the city. Water was free and accessible to all, and every citizen lived within walking distance of a fountain,” she explained.

Aladdin nodded in agreement. “That’s a great idea. Abu and I have to walk all the way to a well on the other side of the city every two weeks. It would definitely save us a lot of time if there was a fountain close by,” he mused. Then he frowned. “But it’d also be really easy for a horse and cart passing by to accidentally kick some dirt into something as shallow and exposed as a fountain. Especially for fountains positioned near the main roads.”

“Which is why I want to build water _pumps_ rather than water fountains,” she said proudly. “It’ll also help keep the water pressure in check and eliminate the chances of wastage by overflow or contamination when it rains.” She straightened her parchment and touched the ink at the top to check if it was dry, before closing her books and packing up her writing equipment. “I’ll have to be in contact with some engineers and other specialists to flesh it out,” she said, rising from her chair to pace around the desk, stretching out her arms as she did so. “But it’s a solid start.”

She walked over to a spot near her desk and crouched down to sit against the wall, curling into herself tiredly. He followed suit, grabbing two blankets from the pile the servants had brought in earlier in the evening and offered one to her. She smiled in gratitude as he handed it over, wriggling clumsily as she wrapped it around herself. Aladdin couldn’t help but giggle at her efforts, tossing his own blanket over his shoulders and sitting down next to her. Immediately in response, she shifted again so that she could fit her head against his shoulder comfortably. It came naturally to them now; any instance they sat next to each other became an invitation to lean on him. “It’ll be a solid proposal, too,” he said when she had settled in her position. “A lot of people will benefit from it when it gets passed.”

She scoffed softly. “ _If_ it gets passed. Getting an audience with the Council was challenging enough, I doubt that presenting my ideas will be any easier. Especially when I have yet to rally any support, now that Mozenrath’s out of the question.”

“ _When_ it gets passed,” he insisted gently. “It might be difficult, but if anyone’s up for the challenge, it’s you, Jasmine. I’ve seen the way you pour your heart into everything you do, how you’ll move mountains in a heartbeat to make sure things turn out okay.” He chuckled softly. “You really are a force to be reckoned with. And at the end of the day, you’ll have their respect. Not as the Princess of Agrabah, the Sultan’s daughter who just so happens to read a lot about the current affairs of the country.” He shifted his head to look down at her, smiling softly. “But because you’re _you._ And that’s more than enough.”

She turned her head from his shoulder to meet his gaze, her eyes full of thinly veiled curiosity and admiration. A small smile broke out on her lips and she settled back on his shoulder. “You know exactly what to say to win me over, don’t you?” she remarked, her voice its usual playful tone. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to credit you when it’s passed.”

Aladdin hummed in protest and shook his head. “I didn’t say that for my own benefit,” he said.

Her gaze flashed back towards him, inexplicable emotion etched into her features. As if in that moment, he was the only thing in the world worthy of her attention. It excited every nerve in his body and filled him to the brim with warmth and exhilaration. In the spur of the moment, he reached out and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, his heart skipping a beat when he felt her breath hitch in her throat. He hesitated for a moment, suddenly afraid that he had overstepped a boundary, but she wriggled an arm free and caught his hand, lacing their fingers together between their knees.

Aladdin suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Jasmine turned to look at him with an eyebrow raised inquisitively. Then it hit him. 

“ _Astaghfirullah_ , I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

The silence was so thick, Aladdin might’ve been able to hear a pin drop. Every muscle in his body was paralysed, and his mind was racing. _What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?_

_Say something else!_

“Uh… your hair is intoxicating,” he blurted out.

_What?!_

“What?” she echoed his thoughts.

He choked on air. “I-I mean, _the smell_ of your hair is intoxicating.”

_No! You sound like a creep!_

She sat up properly and shifted around to face him, letting go of his hand. Never before had he seen her so baffled than she did in that moment. “You can’t breathe… because of the smell of my hair?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed. She was visibly taken aback and he realised his mistake instantly. “ _No!_ I can breathe fine, I’m breathing okay right now, _and there’s nothing wrong with your hair_!” he added quickly when he saw confusion cross her features. “I-It smells very… clean! And fresh, a-and… like flowers!” Aladdin felt like he was waging a losing war against himself, desperately scrambling (and failing) to find purchase.

“Like flowers,” she repeated slowly.

“Exactly like flowers!” he said, nodding with a little too much enthusiasm. “You know, roses, and lavender, and tulips-”

_Let’s move away from the flowers._

“And jasmine! Hey, that’s your name! Isn’t that a strange coincidence,” he said, chuckling nervously.

He wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him up whole.

“You know what,” he said, shifting away from her and onto his feet. “I think I’m just going to-”

“Aladdin.”

He had just gotten into a crouching position when she called his attention again. He turned around and looked at her.

On the surface, she had schooled her features into a controlled blankness. But Aladdin knew her well enough by now to notice the cracks in her veneer of nonchalance; the strain around the corners of her mouth, the mild tremor to her chin, the poorly concealed mirth in her eyes illuminated by the candlelight. She held his gaze determinedly like she always did, but there was an uncertainty about it. Then he noticed the almost imperceptible shaking in her shoulders, and a small sound escaped her lips.

He sat back down as realisation dawned on him. “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?” It came out more like a statement than a question.

At that, she dropped all pretenses of indifference and her laughter rang out clearly across their quiet little corner, full of unfettered joy. He watched tiredly as she leaned her head back against the wall and pressed her blanket to the corners of her eyes. Although he didn’t really mind so much being the subject of her amusement, this was far from the first time she had laughed at his discomfort or used it as fodder for future teasing. He supposed he had to be fair to her, however. She did have to put up with him and Dalia making fun of her for being royalty.

“You know, for someone who has serious game when flirting, you crumble so easily under pressure,” she remarked as she turned to face him, still wiping tears from her eyes. “And the best part is, _you’re_ the one digging the hole deeper for yourself.”

Aladdin saw the opportunity and ran with it. Anything to draw her attention away from his embarrassment. “Do I hear you admitting that my charm is working on you?” he asked, turning to face her fully and leaning as close as he dared into her personal space.

Jasmine raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed, and pushed his shoulder back lightly. “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work. I know you too well, you’re not going to catch me off my guard this time,” she said decisively.

“Oh, is that a challenge?” he said. He flashed her his signature charming smile, and took pleasure in how the confidence in her expression wavered. “The Palace guards couldn’t stop me from sneaking my way into the Palace, what makes you think _your guard_ can stop me from sneaking into your heart?”

Her jaw dropped open. _“_ How did you manage to turn _that_ into a pickup line?! And how did _I_ not see that coming?!”

“Ooh, getting sloppy now, are we?” he teased, already seeing the next opening. “Because when I’m with you, you’re the only one I see.”

“Okay, that one doesn’t actually work out,” she pointed out.

“Doesn’t make it any less true, either,” he riposted easily, adding in a wink for good measure.

She made a face and leaned back against the wall. “Your pickup lines aren’t as good when you’re using them to attack me,” she muttered.

Aladdin chuckled and mirrored her position against the wall. Despite her facade of annoyance at him, she easily settled against him again, resting her head on his shoulder. “Alright, I’m sorry, I’ll stop now,” he said earnestly.

They settled into a comfortable silence again for a few moments, happy to wind down and simply enjoy the other’s company. Then, in an uncharacteristically tentative voice, Jasmine spoke again. “For what it’s worth, I like your pickup lines.” Her voice was quiet, almost as if she was afraid of anyone else hearing, despite them being the only people in the room. Like her words were meant for him, and him alone.

For what felt like the millionth time that day, his stomach swooped pleasantly. He turned his head to look at her and found that she was already looking at him, the same inexplicable emotion in her features. He swallowed hard. “Really?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

She gave him a small smile and nodded almost imperceptibly. “If you tell anyone I said that,” she said, her voice returning with its usual confidence. “I’ll sneak into your tower one night and kidnap Abu while you’re asleep.”

He snorted a laugh. “My lips are sealed,” he said, smiling softly.

It was in moments like these that Aladdin understood what it was like to, for once in his life, have everything he would ever need. To feel truly whole and at peace; to savour the present without fear of the future. Moments like these had always been fleeting. But if there was one thing they all had in common as of late, it was _her_.

Jasmine had always been the embodiment of strength and fearlessness. At first, he had believed it to be intrinsic to her role as the Princess of Agrabah, a carefully constructed facade she had been building for her whole life. But as he came to know the true woman underneath, he realised was a great misjudgement that had been. The confidence in how she carried herself and the gleam of self assurance in her eyes, these were things that distinctly belonged to her. It was one of the many things about her that he adored. She was born to change the world.

But for all her strength, she wasn’t any less immune to moments of vulnerability. He had learnt quickly how incredibly skilled she was at hiding it; those parts of herself that were too precious for public display. Parts of herself that would, in the wrong hands, change her world as she knew it.

And when Aladdin realised that she had given _him_ , a common street thief born into nothing but dirt and poverty, the honour of guarding her most vulnerable parts… He could barely put into words what that meant to him.

He felt her arm shift to touch the hairpin behind her head, before she turned to face him again. He met her gaze, raising his eyebrows inquisitively when he saw the increasingly familiar sparkle of curiosity in her eyes. “What’re you thinking about?” he asked softly.

She paused for a moment as she held his gaze, the barest trace of a smile appearing on her lips. “Nothing,” she said nonchalantly. “Just about what Agrabah needs.”

* * *

 

As day began to break over the horizon, Aladdin watched the children emerge onto the streets and head north towards the communal well, carrying large and empty containers. It was a common occurrence that he’d seen before; the task of gathering water to replenish the household’s supply often fell upon the children who were strong enough to make the journey, but too young to join their fathers in their trade. That was the way things had always been.

Aladdin caught sight of a young girl who couldn’t have been older than six or seven years, lugging an empty container almost as big as her. He’d seen her around before, making the morning trek towards the city’s well. And although he’d didn’t usually pay it any further attention, the thought of her struggling back into the marketplace with a container of water that was clearly too heavy for her made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

He got up from the makeshift bench he had been sitting on and started towards her, but paused when he felt a sharp tug on his pants. Abu clutched at the fabric, chittering inquisitively as he looked up at him. Aladdin picked him up and put him on the bench. “I’ll be back soon,” he told the monkey.

Abu squeaked in protest as he strode towards the girl, but eventually ended up bounding along next to him. Even though Aladdin was happy to leave him to his own devices, he didn’t like being away from him for too long.

He knelt down to the girl’s height and offered her a kind smile. “Do you want me to help you with that?” he asked gently.

The girl peered at him shyly before nodding. She handed him the container. Soon, they were making their way to the well together.

For most of the journey, Aladdin let the girl—Samira— walk ahead and marvel at her surroundings in the way that only a child who had not yet seen the world for what it truly was could. He watched with a smile as she played with Abu (who, not surprisingly, wasn’t as into her games as she was) and looked back at Aladdin with wide eyes whenever she found something that interested her.

 _This is why Jasmine works so tirelessly every day_ , he realised.

Suddenly, it was as if a new piece of some large mechanism in his brain had been retrieved and fitted into place. He had known Jasmine long enough now to understand how truly driven she was with everything that she did, how vehemently she cared about her duties and responsibilities, how fiercely she advocated for compassion and justice for even the lowliest of people. And he had always accepted that that was her nature, never really interested in uncovering exactly why she was so willing to sacrifice so much for Agrabah. But now, seeing Samira enjoy the freedom to be nothing more than a child for what was probably the first time in a while, he understood why she did it. Aladdin thought he knew what satisfaction felt like— but a few simple tricks that fooled the lawmen on his streets were nothing compared to this. 

“Thank you, Aladdin,” Samira said meekly as they returned to her family’s shack.

Aladdin carefully lowered the container of water in front of the little house next to the door and kneeled before her again. He gave her a toothy grin. “No, thank _you_ for teaching Abu some manners,” he said with a wink. She giggled and eventually disappeared back inside.

Real satisfaction was knowing that his labour and sacrifices were enough to bring a smile to a little girl’s face. And now that he had had a taste of it, he couldn’t help but desire more.

Ever since he discovered Jasmine’s real identity, he had had to constantly confront the truth of his inadequacy. There had always been more to her than the life she was born into, and despite her best efforts, he could never be entirely convinced that the same could be said of him. That he was any more than the orphaned street rat that had been lucky enough to stumble upon the Princess in disguise.

Something had shifted ever so slightly in him. Yes, he was destined for a life of crime from the very beginning; born into poverty and dirt with nothing else but a name of no consequence. But he refused to let his past hold him back any longer. To accept that life was nothing more than a game of survival, and that the whole world was against him. To let himself be beaten down over and over again when he _knew_  he was strong  enough to hold his own, and, especially after how kindly his neighbours had treated him after he had been saved from the lawmen all those months ago, help others along the way.

In that moment, he stopped caring about whether he’d ever be worthy of Jasmine. That was a decision that only she had the right to make. And in its place was the burning desire to be a man he _himself_  could be proud  of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REMEMBER WHEN JASMINE SAID SHE WANTED TO BE "JUST FRIENDS" 
> 
> FUN FACT: the 'growing nation in the west' that jasmine refers to is based off the romans during the AD part of their history; the vesuvian city of herculaneum had a system of underground pipes that distributed water to fountains all over the city. except they were made of lead, so they were inadvertently giving themselves lead poisoning ://
> 
> we also have some seriously Awkward!Aladdin!! omg, it took me a long time to write that section because i was cringing out of second-hand embarrassment the whole time, but i really loved that addition to his character in the movie and i wanted to somehow incorporate it here as well.
> 
> ALSO, i wanna say that i haven't seen the aladdin animated series so i don't know much about mozenrath as a character beyond what i read on the wikia, but i thought it would be a fun moment to turn this upstart advisor guy into another (magic free) version of a villain that some of you guys are already familiar with.
> 
> as always, let me know what you guys think!! don't know if the link will work, but come say hi on [tumblr](https://hungryhungryhippo3.tumblr.com)!!


	4. Things You Can't Outrun (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I want to do more than simply survive for myself,” he answered finally. “And that starts with not hurting people anymore by stealing from them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to [lenaval](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenaval/pseuds/lenaval) for beta-ing!! she's super talented AND she's writing a fic as well for aladdin, go check her out!! 
> 
> BEFORE I FORGET, i also made a tiny revision to the ending of last chapter like a day after i posted it. if you were one of those readers who read the first version, the first scene of this chapter may sound a little familiar. i originally introduced a plot point at the end of chapter 3 that i later decided to put here, so that explains why it might sound a bit weird. if you haven't already, i'd recommend going back and reading the last scene as it's currently written :))
> 
> also, some of you may have noticed that the number of total chapters is changing every time i upload a chapter. don't be alarmed!! i originally had 16 chapters planned because i envisioned this to be a bunch of short oneshot-type things but as you can see, i have completely no self control with word counts. if you see the numbers decreasing, it's because i've decided to combine certain plot points together in the one chapter 🤠
> 
> alright i've said enough, enjoy the chapter!!

The air was cold enough to chill Aladdin even under his clothing, and he pulled his cloak a little tighter around his shoulders. He had always lacked in clothing for the cold; he’d never really had any leftover expenses to buy cloaks for the desert nights, and he made it a habit to dispose of cloaks he had stolen from lawmen after using them (especially more so after he had almost been abducted). But one of the weaver women who lived on his street had taken pity on him after he had been rescued all those months ago, allowing him to take one of her older pieces that she had failed to sell before the foreign merchants returned to their home countries.

A crowd was beginning to form in the courtyard before the _masjid_ as the time for the _Isha prayer_ approached. Over the chatter, the familiar melody of the _adzan_ rang out clearly over the city, and the noise began to subside. Aladdin hastily joined the line for men entering the building as more people trickled into the courtyard. A few metres away, a man with a recovering bruise on his jaw and a woman with a dark hijab that obscured her face in the shadows appeared. He had seen them around a couple of times before; if the bruises on the man’s face weren’t jarring enough for him to remember them, it was the way they regarded their surroundings with suspicion and stuck to themselves when the shop-keepers closed up for the day. They separated and joined their respective queues to enter, with the man falling almost immediately behind Aladdin in line.

Upon entering, Aladdin took his shoes off and placed them off to the side. He lingered there for a moment as he watched the man do the same before heading towards the fountain on the side of the _masjid_. He supposed that should be expected; by the looks of him, he probably didn’t have time to do _wudu_ before coming for prayer.

Although they had yet to show any interest in doing harm, he wasn’t about to turn a blind eye to them. He had let his guard down once and had paid the price for it. If it weren’t for his mysterious saviour who had brought him back to his tower after he had lost consciousness, or his neighbours who continued to care for him as he recovered, he didn’t know where he’d be. He refused to let it happen again, to himself or to anyone else.

But now was not the time to be chasing down such suspicions. He turned his heart back to Allah as he joined the row of men settling down to face the _qibla_. Then, finding his usual place, Aladdin began to pray.

***

_“...you can’t keep putting yourself in danger like this, Brother.”_

Aladdin paused in his tracks before quickly recovering and easing his way through the crowd. Stopping abruptly in the midst of a bustling crowd was a surefire way to be noticed. He circled the area slowly until he spotted the man and woman from earlier, huddled together under the shadows of a building bordering the courtyard.

“I knew what I was getting myself into when we started this,” he heard the man say as he edged closer, coming to stop next to a pillar close by. He kept his eyes fixed on the crowd as people mingled with each other, straining his ears to listen. “Besides,” the man continued, attempting a chuckle. “My injuries barely hurt.”

He heard the man suddenly groan, as if he had been struck in a sensitive spot. “That doesn’t sound like it ‘barely hurts’. Your impulsiveness will get you killed one day, Rayan,” the woman replied sharply.

“It almost sounds like you’re worried about me, Sister,” the man —Rayan— teased.

There was silence for a moment. “Don’t test me,” his sister hissed in response. “We’re doing important work here, distributing those papers. We can’t afford to lose a single one, which means _you_ can’t afford to mess up. Need I remind you that the very _second_ the lawmen find out about what we’re doing is the second we-”

“We go to prison, which means that we won’t be able to distribute papers anymore,” Rayan interrupted boredly. “ _I know,_ Aliyah, you don’t need to keep reminding me.”

Aladdin snuck a quick look at the pair again, realising only in that moment how well dressed they were. Granted, they didn’t look as wealthy as Jasmine or even Dalia, but it was obvious from the colours and design of the woman’s—Aliyah’s— clothing that her family had money. He looked at the man—Rayan— again and noticed how young he was; possibly the same age as himself.

What was on the papers they were distributing that made them targets for the lawmen?

There was a sigh, barely audible over the noise of the crowd. “I don’t think you’re ready for this,” Aliyah said after a moment. “Before you whine about it, let me explain. You come home every time I send you out with cuts and scrapes. You’ve almost been recognised at least twice now. And you’re not exactly the most subtle at sneaking into places. You’re barely fooling Mother with your lousy excuses about tripping and hurting yourself whilst running your errands. She’s bound to find out sooner or later.”

He could almost picture the look of protest on Rayan’s face. “What else are we supposed to do?” came his reply. “Our neighbours deserve to know more than the Sultan’s periodic announcements about tax rates— I mean, how is that relevant to the majority of us who aren’t running state-sponsored businesses? They need to know about what’s going on in _our_ _own_ _streets_ ; the merchants who swindle honest people of their money, the traffickers who abduct children in the night, the _lawmen who turn a blind eye to everything!_ ”

Aladdin forced himself not to react too visibly. He didn’t dare risk another glance over at the pair out of fear of revealing himself too soon, but he wasn’t really afraid. Not anymore, now that he understood why they were so protective of themselves.

Ever since that morning with Samira a few weeks ago, he had been searching for an opportunity to put his talents to good use. His neighbours had become a little more sympathetic towards him ever since his run in with the lawmen, and he had grown to know them a little better in the days after as he recovered, trying to repay them for their kindness. Still, he found that there was (frustratingly) little he could do. He had decided to stop stealing altogether, opting instead to run errands in exchange for food for shop-keepers who would allow him. Despite that, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that it wasn’t _enough_ , that there was more he could do.

There was a sharp shushing sound, most likely from Aliyah. “Keep your voice down!” she hissed. “Another reason why you shouldn’t be out there on the streets until you’re ready.” She paused for a moment before she said, in a quieter voice, “We need someone who’s faster on their feet for this job.”

“We might as well be waiting another five years before that happens,” Rayan grumbled.

He heard her sigh tiredly. “We don’t have any other options.”

It was a stroke of serendipity that he had found himself listening in on their conversation at that exact moment. Especially in front of the _masjid_ after his prayers; it was almost as if Allah was handing him an answer on a silver platter. But in spite of himself, Aladdin couldn’t help his reservations. Fools could be sold easily, jumping headfirst into a situation they barely knew anything about at the smallest glimpse of gold. But then again, he had never been afraid of putting himself at risk... when he was confident in his ability to land on his own two feet.

He looked over at the pair again, pursing his lips uneasily. There was a lot to think about. He pulled his hood over his head and made his way back to his tower.

* * *

 

“It still baffles me how much he actually _likes_ you.”

Aladdin looked up from the chaise he was sitting on and saw Jasmine at her desk, watching him with mild curiosity and surprise. He smirked as he scratched the spot behind Rajah’s ears, eliciting a purr from the tiger. “Green isn’t a good colour on you,” he teased. Rajah nudged his head against Aladdin’s fingers insistently and he happily obliged with more scratches. “Animals just like me more, there’s no need to be jealous about it.”

“Sure, because getting along with animals better than with people is such an _admirable_ quality,” she said, turning her attention back to her books.

Aladdin feigned being offended. “You’re so mean to me,” he whined, turning his attention back to the tiger. “Isn’t that right, Rajah?” he said, shaking the tiger’s head gently. Rajah stared back at him blankly before nudging his hands towards the spot behind his ears. Aladdin sighed in exasperation, but he indulged the tiger. “Come on, back me up here.”

From her desk, Jasmine chuckled. “Trying to turn my own tiger against me? It’s not gonna happen.” She turned towards them and whistled sharply, waving Rajah over as she called his name. Rajah’s ears perked up instantly at the sound, and he quickly stalked across the room to sit by her side. Jasmine scratched the spot between his ears as she muttered praises to him. When she was finished, he stalked off to his corner at the foot of her bed and curled around himself as he lay down. She turned back to Aladdin with a self-satisfied smirk. “Rajah’s been around to protect me for almost as long as Dalia has. Just in the past month, he’s scared away at least ten suitors.”

“Getting your tiger to do your dirty work for you? I expected more from you, Jasmine,” he said, rising from his chaise and approaching her.

She scoffed. “Oh, please, you’re one to talk. As if you haven’t gotten Abu to steal a loaf of bread, or something on your behalf before,” she replied, raising an eyebrow at him as he came to stand on the opposite side of the table, facing her.

It was a harmless taunt part of their usual banter and he knew that she didn’t mean anything of it, but he couldn’t help but wince at the comment. Being known as a thief had never something that bothered him— it was true, after all— but over the past few weeks, the label began to feel more like a fault or blemish deserving of shame.

Jasmine noticed the change immediately. She put her quill down and gave him an uneasy look. “Aladdin?”

He turned his attention back to her and plastered on what he hoped to be a reassuring smile. “Sorry, I just… got lost in my thoughts for a moment there,” he said. “Yeah, Abu’s a menace, he’d only listen to me if it’s in his best interests.”

It was clear from her expression that she saw right past his lousy attempt at changing the subject. He watched as she stood up from her desk and came to stand in front of him, her eyes searching his expression worriedly. The hairs on his neck prickled uncomfortably under her gaze and he turned away, but she reached out and gently guided his face to look at her again. “Hey,” she said gently. Her dark eyes implored him under the moonlight. “You don’t have to be scared around me, remember?”

He hadn’t heard those words since she was standing in his tower, trying to convince him to let her into his life. It seemed like such a long time ago since that happened. But despite the odd familiarity of the moment, so much had changed since then. This time around, he believed her whole-heartedly.

He reached for her hand on his cheek and kissed her palm softly, grateful for her presence in that moment, and held her hand between them. “Abu and I don’t really steal anymore,” he said quietly. “Well, at least, _I_ don’t. Abu’s taken a little longer to convince, and admittedly sometimes, even I can’t stop him, but for the most part, he’s learned to accept it.”

Her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “I thought you liked stealing? Not that not stealing is a bad thing,” she added quickly. “But I think I remember you saying that you liked the ‘thrill of the chase’, or something like that?”

Aladdin pursed his lips and partially turned away from her, mulling over his next words carefully. The truth was, he hadn’t really given it much thought until recently. Stealing had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember, and he never had any reason to question that. But as he came to realise things about the world, he didn’t feel as comfortable with stealing as he did before. 

“I… I thought I did,” he said. He let go of her hand and went to sit down at the edge of her desk. “It’s the only way I knew how to get by, and I think eventually, it became the only thing I _knew_. And even though I knew it was wrong, I just… kept going.” He glanced over as Jasmine sat next to him, but his attention quickly wandered back to his thoughts. He scoffed at himself. “I was breaking the law on a daily basis and making people suffer, but I didn’t have anyone to tell me that what I was doing was _wrong_.”

He felt her fingers on his. “You were doing what you needed to do to survive.”

Aladdin met her gaze a little hesitantly. He knew what she was trying to do, but she had never had to live the life he had. She had never been forced into crime or wrongdoing, and she’d never have to deal with the consequences of her decisions on her conscience because of it. There may have been some truth to what she was saying, but for the most part, he couldn’t be convinced. 

“Maybe,” he said coolly. Then he sighed. “It might’ve started like that. But when you come to believe that there’s _nothing else_ for you but being a thief, you learn to-“ He cut himself off abruptly and looked away. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he felt a deep sense of shame and self-loathing. “You learn to enjoy it,” he murmured, afraid of saying it any louder. “And I think that’s the worst part.”

On some level, he had always resented the world for dictating who and what he was allowed to be. It had burdened him for years, festering almost invisibly in the hidden corners of his mind, rearing its ugly head in the darkness of night when sleep refused to come. When he realised that he had the power to control his own future, he thought that the good would follow easily and replace the things he had been burdening all alone for the past twenty years. Maybe that was still the case. But he also realised that if he had the power to control his future, so did he have power— _responsibility_ — over his past. _He_ had been the cause of so much injury and loss to others; _he_ wasn’t entirely free from blame for the identity he was forced into.

He swallowed hard and reined his emotions in, keeping his eyes trained on the loose piece of thread at a fraying corner of his sleeve. “After the _Isha_ _prayer_ today, I overheard these two people, a man and a woman, talking about helping out the common folk of Agrabah by keeping them informed about the going-ons of the city. They were looking for someone fast enough to evade the lawmen unscathed, and I couldn’t help but think that that was it. My chance to do more with my life beyond stealing for my own benefit.” He paused for a moment to swallow down the lump that had appeared in his throat. “But am I even… _deserving_ … of more, after all the things I’ve done? Am I really any different now than I was, just a couple of months ago?”

It hurt to say it aloud. Hearing it in his own voice made it more _real_.

But before he could spiral any further, Jasmine spoke. “Aladdin, look at me,” she said, her voice both stern and gentle at the same time. He met her gaze immediately, partly out of surprise, partly because there wasn’t really anything else he could do. Her eyes seemed to hold him in place. “What made you decide to stop stealing?”

He paused for a moment and held her gaze curiously. It was a question he hadn’t really considered in depth until that moment. Sure, he knew he didn’t want to steal anymore, and he had found other ways to provide for himself. But he had never really seen any need to justify that choice.

He thought about Samira again, and the moment he decided to stop for good. “Because I want to do more than simply _survive_ for myself,” he answered finally. “And that starts with not hurting people anymore by stealing from them.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. He blinked once, then twice as realisation dawned on him. “Oh,” he said dumbly.

At that, she giggled and shifted closer until their knees were touching. “You’re a good guy, Aladdin,” she said, giving him a small smile. “You always have been. The day we met, you risked your life _twice_ for me, a stranger to you. Sure, you’ve done some regrettable things in the past, but you’ve never been above learning from your mistakes.” She reached over and eased her fingers in between his own, pulling his hand into her lap. He followed the movement with his eyes before returning to her. “The very fact that you _care_ about how your choices affect others is proof enough that you’re different now. _Good_ different. And if you’ve found an opportunity to do more with your life, then you should be free to pursue it.”

As Aladdin held her gaze at her, something moved inexplicably within his chest. He had been drawn to Jasmine from the moment they met, chasing after the thrill of commanding the undivided attention of a girl he’d connected with in a way he’d never experienced before. But there was something more to what he felt for her now— if he could even describe it as something to be _felt_. _Being_ with her had become so natural to him that sometimes he forgot what things were like before she came into his life. It never ceased to amaze him how well she understood him; how easily she could adjust to support him, how she always seemed to know what to say to put him at ease. Not for the first time, he found himself truly marvelling at the blessing of having her.

“Do you ever get tired of being amazing?”

She smirked, but the kindness in her eyes lingered for a moment. “It’s a heavy burden to carry, but alas, someone has to do it,” she teased.

From somewhere behind them, he heard footsteps approaching and the slight creak of a door being opened wider. “ _Please_ don’t encourage her.” Aladdin turned towards the voice and saw Dalia emerging from the doorway connecting the main part of the room to the dressing area at the back. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, and her face was flushed from effort. Her eyes landed on him and she gave him a friendly smile. “Hey, Aladdin.”

“Hey, Dalia,” he said, returning her smile. “I was wondering where you were.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can thank _Her Highness_ for that. I was preparing her wardrobe for tomorrow. She has five separate outfits! _Five!_ ”

Jasmine sighed and let go of his hand, moving around her desk to stand in front of her chair. “Perfect timing as always, Dalia,” she remarked, folding her arms across her chest.

Aladdin stood up from his place and went over to lean on a nearby pillar. He raised an eyebrow at Dalia. “Five outfits, did you say?”

Dalia turned to him, a wicked gleam in her eyes. She never hesitated to tease Jasmine about being the Princess, but she was always more ruthless about it whenever Aladdin was on board. “Five,” she confirmed. “And it’s not just her _dress_ she’s changing; each outfit comes with its own separate pieces of jewellery, hairpins and makeup, and shoes.”

He feigned shock, shooting Jasmine a look of disgust. She met his expression, unimpressed. “ _And_ shoes? Okay, that’s too much.”

Dalia made her way to another chaise close by to Jasmine’s desk and dramatically plopped herself down. “I’m practically doing a job befitting of a _team_ of handmaidens. Don’t be surprised if I suddenly collapse out of exhaustion one day.”

“I want you _both_ to know that I’m deliberately refraining from dignifying those comments with a response,” Jasmine said sharply, sitting back in her seat and returning to her scrolls with determination.

Dalia raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, bracing her head on her fist as her elbow rested on her knee. “But Princess, the very nature of that comment means that you _are_ ‘dignifying us with a response’,” she riposted, making air quotations as she did so. Jasmine gave her a look that might’ve silenced a room, but she only smirked in response.

“Hey Dalia, maybe we should cut it out and give her some space for a moment,” Aladdin said after a beat of silence.

Jasmine sighed in relief. “ _Thank you_ , Aladdin.”

“I mean, Her Highness is _clearly_ preoccupied with her other duties, and I wouldn’t want to be thrown into prison for distracting her.”

Dalia burst out laughing at that, but Jasmine practically _slammed_ her quill down on her desk and whipped around to face him with a glare so scathing, he _almost_ whimpered. He looked to Dalia for help, but her eyes were elsewhere as she leaned against the wall. He audibly swallowed as he turned his attention back to Jasmine.

The moment passed quickly enough, however, and Jasmine started packing up her things. He let out a small sigh of relief. “You’re both lucky that I was just about finished before you started distracting me,” she grumbled as she closed her books and returned them to the little shelves next to her desk. “Next time, I might’ve made good on that threat.”

She was clearly joking, but Aladdin went over and helped her pack up as a peace offering anyway. “I’m sorry, please don’t throw us in prison.”

“Hey! What was the first rule I taught you about teasing Jasmine?”

Aladdin looked up for a moment to give Dalia a half-hearted apologetic smile. “I guess I’m just not as good at riling her up as you are,” he said.

Dalia scoffed in indignation, but got up to clear the last of Jasmine’s things. “You act like you’ll spontaneously combust or something, if you spend too long not on her side,” she grumbled, but there was no real malice to her voice.

“Personally, I appreciate it,” Jasmine said, leaning against her chair.

Dalia gave her a knowing smirk. “Of course you do.” Aladdin looked between the two of them, trying to figure out what he was missing, but before he could even scratch the surface, Dalia turned her attention back to him. “So, what brings you here tonight, Aladdin? You haven’t come to return another stolen item, by any chance?”

Although there was still some lingering shame at the mention of his stealing, it didn’t sting as much as when Jasmine first brought it up. He looked over at her briefly, and she gave him the smallest of smiles. He turned his attention back to Dalia and shook his head. “Not this time, or ever again. I don’t steal anymore,” he said.

Jasmine moved to stand beside him. “And he’s barely stolen anything from me since my bracelet,” she added, looking over at him with a smile. “He’s come a long way since then.”

Dalia looked between them curiously, her expression inscrutable. “I can see that,” she mused, her words seemingly referring to more than his admission. Then she grinned at both of them and clapped her hands together. “In that case, I think I have an idea. And don’t worry, Princess, you’ll like this one.”

Jasmine put her hand on her hip. “You know, saying that doesn’t exactly put my mind at ease. If anything, I’m _more_ worried,” she said. Then she sighed. “What are you thinking?”

“Well, like you said, he’s trying out something different. And since we’re all already here and I’m already dressed to get my hands dirty,” she said, turning to Aladdin. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “Why don’t we change up his look as well?”

***

Aladdin was no stranger to cutting his hair. Hidden beyond Abu’s reach in his tower were a pair of small blades fastened together in a way that could sever a piece of rope when clasped. He wasn’t particularly sentimental with any of the few possessions he had, but it was one of the oldest of his things, purchased in his early adolescence when he had been caught stealing some food thanks to his recognisably long hair. In a fit of frustration, he had tossed some coins over to a merchant in exchange for the contraption, angrily snipping away at his locks as soon as he left the marketplace. Cutting his hair had never been anything more than another rudimentary activity of his personal upkeep.

He didn’t think that such a mundane task could change his appearance so drastically.

The man in the mirror looked so much more… _refined_. His hair was cropped closer (and a lot more evenly) than he had ever managed to do so himself around the sides and the back, and was left longer at the top to be swept to the side. The edges of his hair near his sideburns were neatly manicured as to frame his face properly. Without the extra hair, he could see the slight hollows of his cheeks and the strong curve of his jaw more clearly. His features were exactly the same; there was still a youthful quality to his eyes, but there was definitely a maturity to his appearance that he’d never seen before.

In his reflection behind him, Dalia cleared her throat without any subtlety. Immediately, he turned around to face her. “Thank you, Dalia. Seriously, this is incredible,” he said, making no attempt to hide the awe in his voice.

She smiled proudly in response. “Well, I’m not the Princess’ handmaiden for nothing,” she replied as he faced his reflection again. “Plus, it was fun to be creative again with hair styling. This one over here barely lets me cut her hair nowadays,” she said, looking at Jasmine pointedly.

Jasmine scoffed indignantly. “You always take too much off the front,” she said.

“Okay, I admit, sometimes I _may_ go a little overboard, but I think it turned out in my favour today!” Dalia reached for Jasmine’s arm and pulled her along to stand just behind him. “One might even say he looks befitting of royalty.”

Aladdin didn’t miss the way that Jasmine’s eyes flashed towards Dalia at the statement, as an indiscernible emotion momentarily crossed her features. But it happened so quickly, he doubted it was there at all. He might’ve doubted it happened in the first place if it wasn’t for Dalia’s reaction, which was a lot less controlled than Jasmine’s. Her eyes widened in shock, as if she suddenly understood the meaning of her words, and her mouth slammed shut.

Although he didn’t want to push about it— it was clearly an exchange not meant for him— he couldn’t help but feel awkward standing in the midst of it. So instead, he reached up and lightly ran his fingers along the cropped parts before fussing with the longer strands at the top, still in disbelief at how different it was. “I don’t think my hair has ever felt this _soft_ before,” he mused. A light breeze filtered throughout the open door of the balcony, and the scent of the soap Dalia had used wafted into his face. He furrowed his brows together as he recognised the smell. “Is that… floral soap?”

In the mirror, he saw Jasmine smirk, all traces of whatever silent conversation she had just shared with Dalia now forgotten. “Yeah, since we both know how much you like the smell of _flowers_ so much.”

He whipped around to face her in protest. “Oh, come on, it was late, I was tired!”

“Don’t choke this time,” she quipped.

“I didn’t _choke_ because of some stupid flowers.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Sorry, let me rephrase: don’t get too _intoxicated_ this time around.”

Aladdin knew it was a losing battle, trying to weasel his way out of humiliation when she was dead set on teasing him. She had always been quick enough to keep up with him in banter, but as she grew to know him better, he found himself constantly on his toes. He had to steer the conversation to the one thing he knew was better at than her.

“You know what, I take back everything. You’re right about the flowers,” he said, relishing in how the mirth disappeared immediately from her expression. He approached her slowly. “But as much as I like the fragrance on myself-”

“Aladdin, what are you doing?”

He stopped right before her, the space between them so much smaller than usual that she had to look up at him. He let a few beats of silence pass as he held her gaze, watching as the tension disappeared from her expression. She stared up at him with thinly veiled admiration, and something else he didn’t recognise. His stomach churned giddily at the way she was looking at him, but he forced his expression to remain impassive.

“It’s not quite the same as when it comes from you.”

His stomach swooped again when he noticed the slightest hint of pink tinge her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, but I distinctly remember both of you telling me you two were ‘just friends’ like, a week ago.”

Suddenly reminded of Dalia’s presence, Jasmine hastily took a step back whilst Aladdin turned to her with a poorly concealed smirk. “That’s still true,” he said. He turned back to Jasmine and flashed her his signature charming smile. “But I haven’t exactly been subtle about my feelings, either,” he said, more to tease her than anything else.

“Can we go back to when I was making fun of you for the flowers?” Jasmine grumbled, taking an interest in the curtains framing the door to her balcony.

Aladdin chuckled at that. “Not a chance.”

He stayed with them until the moon was well above the Palace’s minaret, finally saying his goodbyes when it was clear the two women were tired. After he had thanked Dalia again and had fastened his cloak around his shoulders, he stood on the balcony, watching the guards carefully. Although sneaking in and out of the Palace was no longer much of a challenge for him, he was still careful to keep his guard up. 

As his gaze wandered to the spot on the wall with the loosened bricks, his thoughts drifted to the man and woman at the _masjid_. In spite of himself, he couldn’t help but worry again. Working up the nerve to approach them was one thing— what if they rejected him altogether?

Out of his periphery, Jasmine appeared next to him. She glanced at him before looking back over the balcony. “You’re worried about that job again, aren’t you?” She said it like it was a statement rather than a question.

He sighed. “I really want this,” he said quietly. “What if I mess up and fall on my face on the first day, or embarrass myself in front of the man and woman when I present myself, or do something else really stupid?”

She put her hand on top of his on the balcony railing. “Maybe all those things could happen, and you don’t get it at all,” she said. Aladdin looked at her in surprise. She met his eyes and offered him a small smile. “But if you truly desire it, and so does Allah, then it _will_ happen, _Insha'Allah_. And even if you don’t get it, I know there will be other opportunities for you to do good. Just have a little patience and trust. I promise things will work out in the end.”

Even whilst she was tired, she still somehow knew what to say to ease the knot in his chest. He returned her smile and pressed the back of her hand to his lips in gratitude. Then he let go and hoisted himself over the railing. “I’ll let you know how it goes,” he said finally. And with that, he started climbing down.

* * *

 

Under the cover of darkness, Aladdin weaved his way around the streets of his sleeping city, every nerve of his body alight with anticipation. Agrabah had always been more dangerous at night, and amongst it all were the packs of lawmen who roamed the streets with their torches and swords, sanctioning all the crimes of the night with their indifference. He had lived refugeless on the streets for long enough to know how to evade it all, but that didn’t stop the incessant pounding of his heart with the fear he needed to keep him alive.

He had just delivered the last of the papyrus papers Aliyah and Rayan had packed for him and was making his way back to their father’s house.

_“Captain! I think I found one of those papers from that boy we almost caught a week ago!”_

Aladdin froze in his tracks. It was coming from the other side of the buildings. He pulled his hood over his head and quickly crept through the small alleyways leading around to the other side. Sure enough, he saw a pack of lawmen milling about around a fire. One of the lawmen was holding a roll of paper— a paper that was noticeably missing from the doorstep of one of the houses he had visited earlier that night, just a few blocks behind the group. He recognised the familiar scowl of the Captain, who all but snatched the roll out of the first lawmen’s hand. He unrolled it and skimmed through the pages, his scowl deepening the further he read.

“What should we do, sir? Should we toss it in the fire?”

Panic raced through Aladdin’s mind. Aliyah had been very clear in her instructions to make sure each and every paper had been delivered. He was sure he’d be rejected if he returned with the news that he had failed.

“No,” the Captain said, rolling the paper back up. “We’ll bring it back to the boss. We’ve been hunting down the source of these papers for weeks. This’ll make for a compelling argument for him to believe us and lend us the manpower we need.”

His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach and his blood ran cold. As much as Aliyah had insisted that every paper be delivered, his number one priority had always been to _not get caught_. He watched in horror as the Captain opened up his satchel and put the roll inside. Suddenly, having the paper thrown into the fire didn’t sound like such a bad idea. He knew he needed to act quickly.

“Hey, Captain, did they write anything about us?” one of the other lawmen from the other side of the fire called.

“Of course they did,” he replied. “I’d let you read it, but I doubt you’d understand half the words they used.”

The man scoffed indignantly. “You insult me, sir,” he protested, storming over to the other side. “I can read perfectly fine.”

The Captain sniggered in response and opened up his satchel. “Is that so? Be my guest and _prove it_.” He held the roll of paper out.

That was his window of opportunity. There was no time to waste. In one fluid movement, Aladdin pulled out the small blade he kept in his shoe and threw it with as much force as he could muster. It pierced through the roll moments before the second lawmen could take hold of it, hurtling through empty air before landing on the wall of a building a few metres away. As soon as the knife left his hand, Aladdin was on his feet, deftly racing around the hidden corners behind buildings towards his blade. By the time the lawmen had realised what had happened, his blade was within arms reach.

“Stop him!”

He snatched the knife out of the wall and bolted into another alleyway, hastily shoving the roll and his knife through his belt at his hip.

Driven by instinct and the incessant beating of his heart, he ran as fast as he could, turning sharply into other alleyways when lawmen emerged to block his path, easily hoisting himself onto skirtings or gutters on the exterior of buildings, leaping over the group that had come to intercept him, landing into a crouch as he hit the ground before taking off again. He recognised the familiar thrill of the chase as adrenaline coursed through his veins, but this time he was running with _purpose_. There was no carefree laughing as the wind whipped at his face, or taunts at the lawmen as they struggled to keep up. He only had one goal in mind, and there was no room for error.

As fast as he was on his feet and as well as he knew the layout of the city, he was still greatly outnumbered. They were hot on his trail and surrounding him quickly. Soon, they would close in around him and he’d be trapped. He needed to find a way to lose them.

Before the last of the lawmen could close in completely, he raced through the slightest of openings in between them, shouldering past one of them roughly enough to knock him off of his feet. Aladdin disappeared behind another darkened alleyway, wracking his brains for a way to evade them.

In the distance, the outline of a group of smaller, densely packed one-storey buildings appeared. As the details of the rundown shacks with rusted rooftops and cracked walls came into focus, he identified the stench of smoke and herbs, and other substances he didn’t know. He doubted the lawmen knew about it; barely anyone knew about that area except for its inhabitants and those who had survived to escape it. It was a big risk, especially since he had only been in that part of the city once by accident a few years ago, but he didn’t have any other choice.

That neighbourhood belonged to one of the most aggressive and territorial gangs in the city. Most of them would be asleep by this time, but they wouldn’t stay like that for long if there was a crowd of trespassers running through their streets. If his memory served him correctly, there was a narrow alleyway that branched off the main road within the neighbourhood that would lead him back to safety outside of their territory. However, it was difficult to find since it was so narrow, and he had been a lot smaller back then.

“He’s over there!” came the booming voice of the Captain behind him. Before he had time to second doubt himself, he steeled his nerve and thundered past the border.

He slowed his pace incrementally and tried to control the sound of his footsteps as he searched rapidly for the alleyway. There wasn’t much time, the inhabitants of the neighbourhood would be alerted to his presence soon enough, but it seemed as though there were more paths branching off the main road than he remembered. He vaguely remembered ducking into a corner labelled with a faded blue sign all those years ago, but it was hard to identify any colours at all in the dark.

Behind him, he heard the pounding of footsteps hot in pursuit. Candlelight started to flicker through the windows of buildings on either side of him, and the light made it a little easier to see. But the light also spelt out imminent danger as the soft grumble of voices emerged from within.

“You won’t get away this time!”

He was out of time. Aladdin spotted a faded blue sign behind a corner and darted into the alleyway, barely able to move through with how tight it was. He pressed on determinedly as the grumbling of voices turned into shouting and groaning as what was surely a fight broke out behind him. He had no idea if he had found the right alleyway, if he’d end up in some deeper and more dangerous part of the territory, but turning back wasn’t an option anymore.

Eventually, the path opened up wide enough that he had enough space to run comfortably. He almost laughed in relief when he was the distinct shape of the city’s market appear at the end of the path. He was almost there! Only a few more steps-

The string fastening his cloak together suddenly tugged sharply against his neck.

“You’re going to regret that, street rat.”

Aladdin’s eyes flickered behind him momentarily, and he saw the Captain looming before him, a fistful of his cloak clasped tightly in his fingers. He pulled sharply and Aladdin gasped as he was forced backwards. His fingers fumbled for the clasp around his throat, struggling to find the hook that would release him. Just as he got a hold of the hook, he felt the material of his cloak stretch ever so slightly in anticipation of the next pull. He pushed against the clasp just as the Captain tugged again. As the material was pulled off of his shoulders, Aladdin swivelled around on one foot and landed a kick on his stomach with enough force to knock him flat on his back. Then, without another moment to waste, he rushed through the exit.

Some days, Aladdin didn’t get so lucky. But as he patted his side and felt his fingers brush against the roll of paper and his blade, he remembered that the reason he had survived for so long was because more often than not, he was luckier than most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ('masjid' is the arabic word for 'mosque'. thought i'd go along with it because in the wise words of lenaval, 'it just sounds better' 😂)
> 
> i could also stand here and argue that giving aladdin a haircut serves some deeper symbolic purpose as a cheesy metaphor of the changes he's undergone, but honestly it was purely for self-indulgent purposes 😅 you might have also noticed that this is part one of this particular chapter (i got to the end of this scene and saw that the word count was already over 7k YIKES). don't worry though! the second part is mostly finished and should be up soon :)) as always, thank you to everyone who's been leaving comments and kudos, you guys are srsly amazing <33
> 
>  
> 
> [MY TUMBLR](https://hungryhungryhippo3.tumblr.com/)


	5. Things You Can't Outrun (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why do you want that law abolished so badly? I mean, duh, stupid question, let me rephrase.” Dalia looked at her carefully. “Do you… still want to be Sultan?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as promised, here's the second part of the chapter!! it's been through quite a few revisions so thank you all for bearing with me 😅 so these were originally meant be two short scenes at the end of the last chapter, like a brief glance at the lives of aladdin and jasmine outside of their interactions, but then the first scene especially grew into this whole Thing while i was writing it out, hence the split. i also wanna say a big thank you to lenaval for beta-ing for this chapter, and also her moral support whilst writing 😂 if you haven't already, check her out!!
> 
> enjoy the chapter xx

Although on most days she found that she could accomplish anything as long as she put her mind to it, sometimes Jasmine was just unlucky. The document she had found a few months ago remained in a hidden compartment in her room, but it was still an official royal record. It wasn’t enough to prove Ja’far’s illegal enterprises. She had searched his office for hours for any evidence that would reveal his connection to the corruption of the lawmen in the city— maybe some correspondence between himself and the captain assigned to protect the streets— but there was nothing to be found except old requests and complaints from their allies, or trading partners, or citizens. It was almost enough to make her doubt whether her suspicions were merited at all in the first place, if not for the stinging memory of Aladdin’s bruised body and the cruelty in the faces of the men who were supposed to be protecting him. And her worries only compounded when he told her about others who had noticed, the man and woman who had taken matters into their own hands as a response to the failures— _her family’s_ failures— to keep the people safe.

She eventually reached the doors to her room, and quietly squeezed herself through.

“You wanna tell me where you’ve been sneaking off to every other night?”

Dalia stood near her desk on the other side of the room, her hands on her hips. A single candle flickered behind her on the mahogany, her shadow standing formidably tall as it stretched across the floor. Her eyes were cold and hard.

Jasmine closed the door behind her the rest of the way and squared her shoulders. “Out for a walk,” she answered without missing a beat.

She watched the rise and fall of Dalia’s shoulders as she sighed. Then, she wordlessly produced a parchment from behind her, holding her gaze as she placed it in her lap. Jasmine didn’t need to read what was inside to know what it was. “Try again.”

“Where did you get that-”

“Answer the question, Jasmine.”

For the first time in years, she felt genuinely afraid of her best friend. It wasn’t often that Dalia got angry, and usually it was over something that could be resolved easily. But even since they were children, she had never been the type to beat around the bush. And even though she wanted Jasmine to feel comfortable around her, she never hesitated to remind her that she was not someone to be underestimated.

Jasmine carefully approached, sitting down on her bed. “I was in Ja’far’s office,” she said, her voice a little quieter than before.

The look Dalia gave her as soon as the words left her mouth, as if she had done something unforgivable, made her heart drop to the pit of her chest. “ _Please_ don’t tell me you were doing what I think you were doing,” she begged.

“I have to do this,” Jasmine declared, finding her voice again.

“ _No, you don’t!”_ Dalia exploded, swiping her hand through the air. “If you have a problem with someone on the Sultan’s Council, take it to _the Sultan_ first!”

Jasmine met her eyes with fiery determination. “You know I can’t do that,” she replied coolly. “He won’t believe me. _No one_ _on his stupid council_ will believe me. Not without proof.”

“And you think _this_ is the way to go about it? Breaking into _the Grand Vizier of Agrabah’s_ office in the middle of the night and going through his things? Do you have _any idea_ how _insane_ that sounds?! You could get into so much trouble for this! _Everything_ that you’ve worked for could be taken away from you!” Her eyes were shining with tears.

Jasmine winced as Dalia’s words pierced at her deepest fears. Despite being the Princess, she had had to work twice as hard as the other courtiers who frequented the Palace to earn the same level of respect that was given naturally to the men at court. She constantly had to prove her worth when her father invited her to be part of meetings, spending weeks in advance researching and planning in preparation, making sure she was allowed to speak at least once during the discussion. She had had to put up with advisors and bureaucrats who were clearly unfit for their roles taking credit for her ideas, just so they could make it on the Council’s agenda. It was a long and difficult road, but there was always the promise that there would be a chance to rise above everyone who had ever doubted her and take her place as a leader of her nation. She wanted to build a legacy that extended beyond being the daughter of the Sultan, or the wife of some powerful prince. She wanted to leave her _own_ mark on the world. The prospect of losing all of that _terrified_ her to her core.

But the prospect of someone else clawing his way towards his goals at the expense of _her_ people’s well-being terrified her even more.

“If it means keeping my people safe, then I’d _gladly_ take the risk,” she said, her heart beating strongly with her words.

One moment passed, and then another. All the while, she held Dalia’s gaze determinedly. Then finally, Dalia relented, closing her eyes and sighing in exhaustion.

“I know I can’t stop you,” she said, almost like a confession. She inhaled slowly and rubbed her temples before meeting Jasmine’s eyes again. “Alright, let’s say you get caught. The minute Ja’far finds out what you’ve been up to, he’ll convince the Sultan to marry you away to a prince in a foreign land so you’re out of his way. And knowing him, he’ll probably find a way around that ‘heir’ problem too. It won’t be difficult for him, you know. You’re almost twenty-one, and the law states that your father can intervene if you haven’t chosen a husband by then.”

The ever-present knot in her stomach wound itself tighter at the mention of the law. She took a small breath and forced herself to calm down. “That law won’t be a problem by then,” she replied, hoping the waver in her voice wasn’t too noticeable. “My meeting with the Council will be a few weeks before my birthday, and Baba promised that that law would be abolished if I can prove to the other advisors that they don’t need a foreign prince governing in my stead. And besides,” she said, attempting a small smile. “All of this will only be a problem if I get caught.”

Dalia looked at her, unimpressed. “So it seems like I’ve offered a hypothetical situation, to which you’ve given me a hypothetical solution to,” she said. “ _Hypothetical_ , being the key word. What guarantee do you have that your father’s Council will approve?”

Jasmine bit her lip and shook her head slightly. “I don’t,” she admitted. “I could do all the preparation in the world, with the best minds in Agrabah informing my proposal, delivering a flawless presentation, and it could still not be enough.” Even as the words passed through her lips, it stung deeply. She inhaled softly and gathered her wits. “But I _want_ this more than _anything_ in the world. And I _know_ my people need me now more than ever before. The world is _changing_ , and I _need_ to be part of it.” Her blood burned with resolve as she met Dalia’s eyes. “I’ve failed before, and I’ll probably fail again in the future. But this time, failure _isn’t_ an option.”

There was a beat of silence as Dalia’s features remained inscrutable. Jasmine held her breath in anticipation.

Dalia adjusted herself in her seat and relaxed her shoulders. “I’m still terrified for you,” she said finally. Then she offered her a smile that reached her eyes. “But, _subhanallah_ , that was the most inspiring speech I’ve heard like, _ever_. Seriously, I take back everything I’ve ever said about you and public speaking, you should call an assembly and address a crowd, or something.”

Jasmine let out a laugh in surprise, almost overwhelmed by relief at her support at last. Soon enough, Dalia joined her and came to sit down on the bed next to her. “Thank you, Dalia,” she said when her laughter had subsided. “You have no idea how much I appreciate you.”

She smirked in response. “You could stand to say it a little more often,” she replied. Then her features softened. “But you’ll always have my support, Jasmine. Even when I’m yelling at you for making stupid decisions. I want the best for you.”

Jasmine looked at her again and smiled. “I know. And I’m sorry for worrying you earlier.”

Dalia squeezed her shoulder lightly, and they fell into a comfortable silence. Jasmine glanced back at her after a few moments, and noticed the familiar crease between her eyebrows as she occupied herself with a thought. She nudged her lightly and raised an eyebrow, and Dalia spoke again. “Why do you want that law abolished so badly? I mean, _duh_ , stupid question, let me rephrase.” She looked at Jasmine carefully. “Do you… still want to be Sultan?”

The question made her stomach churned uncomfortably and she kept her eyes trained at her fingers on her lap. Ever since suitors started knocking at her door and the whole concept of marriage became an issue, the seed of longing to take her father’s place after his reign had planted itself in her mind. As she was forced to sit through more and more humiliating courtship meetings with princes whom she barely tolerate, that seed took root and grew taller. At first, it was a wild fantasy; a way to escape the burden of having to spend the rest of her life with a man she didn’t love. As she grew older and came to learn more about the world and herself however, it developed into a real aspiration. But when she was bold enough to test the waters with various people— her father, the viziers and advisors, _Dalia_ — that aspiration was constantly trimmed down with compromises and other preoccupations until she had learned to curb her desires herself.

“I want to be a leader to my people,” she said slowly. Then she paused, mulling over her next words carefully. “But I have to be realistic as well. In all of Agrabah’s history, there’s never been a woman on the throne.” She looked up at Dalia almost hesitantly and sighed in resignation.

“No. I can’t be Sultan.”

For all her strength of will and heart, it wasn’t enough to completely overturn the natural order of the life she had been born into. There was a lot to be grateful for and she knew she was luckier than most. But at the end of the day, she was still a mere subject to the rulings of a society that had defined on her behalf a role and identity that would follow her for the rest of her life; a society that ascribed these things on the basis of something beyond her control. When there wasn’t a single voice from the vast cacophony of the world telling her that her desires were okay, the temptation to blindly follow and believe just for the sake of _not being insane_ was almost too strong to resist. Jasmine was not below lying to herself; although she had accepted that there were simply some things that would forever be beyond her reach, the longing in her soul to _be_ the chiefest decision-maker, protector and leader of her people would never be fully erased.

Dalia watched her carefully for a moment, her expression unreadable. Jasmine sighed and looked away again. “But, I do know that the husband I choose will become Sultan,” she said, her voice returning to its usual cool resolve. “So, as the Princess and future Queen of Agrabah, I need to marry someone who I not only love, but can serve my people well. Someone who will allow me to lead my people at his side.”

Her thoughts almost instinctively wandered to Aladdin. Out of all of the men she had encountered, he was the only one she felt a genuine connection with. He had captured her attention from the very day they met, asking her to forget about her worries and meticulous planning for just a few moments, and take a leap of faith with him. It was exhilarating, to be free from all the expectations and pressure of her title. She had always known that she had to fight for what she believed it, but he helped her understand that anything worth fighting for started with taking a risk. He was so incredibly smart in ways that seemed to _balance_ her out— his street smarts alongside her book smarts— and had always been so _good_ to her, being a constant source of patience and support throughout the past few months they had known each other. It had become _natural_ to _be_ with him, to have his stupid pickup lines and kind smile and flustered stammering in her life; so natural that it was almost impossible to recall what things had been like before they met.

She realised she was smiling when Dalia nudged her again, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Do you love him?” she asked gently.

“W-Who?” she asked, hastily wiping the smile from her face.

Dalia rolled her eyes. “There’s literally only _one person_ I could be talking about.”

Jasmine exhaled softly and pinched her brows together. “I… I don’t know,” she said slowly.

Dalia squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “That’s okay. You don’t need to know all the answers now,” she said. “But if I may be so bold as to say this, I think he’s good for you.” Jasmine looked at her in surprise, and her eyebrows flicked upwards momentarily. “You’ve been more… _driven_ , I think. Since you met him. And also more open-minded to other ideas that don’t just come from you. More willing to hear others out, I suppose.” She paused for a moment and frowned. “And although I think he’s also made you a little bit more reckless with your decisions…” Jasmine gave her a blank look, and she laughed. “You two are good together,” she finished once her laughter had subsided.

As the image of him appeared in her mind again, Jasmine didn’t make any attempts to conceal her smile. “Yeah,” she agreed. “I think so too.”

There was another beat of silence. “Do you think you’ll marry him?”

“Dalia, I just said that I don’t know if I love him,” Jasmine said, giving her a look.

“I know, I know, but it’s something worth considering properly.”

“ _Dalia_.”

“I’m just thinking about the future here,” she replied, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “The husband you choose will end up as Sultan,” she said. At that, Jasmine looked at her warily. “You said so yourself, the man you choose needs to be someone you love and someone who can actually _lead_ your people. And I’m _not suggesting you two are getting married_ ,” she said, enunciating each word. “But I’m also curious as to whether he knows about the expectations that come with being with you.”

Jasmine would be lying if she said that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind before. What she felt for him— if it was even accurate to describe it as something she _felt_ — was something deeper and entirely new to her, beyond anything she had experienced from any man that had caught her eye in the past, and certainly more than what she felt from any of her suitors. She could easily see herself falling in love with Aladdin and choosing to spend the rest of her life with him, even without the pressure of being in her position. And she had no doubt in her mind that the Agraban court was in dire need of someone like him. He was a lot more clever than he gave himself credit for, and if the past few days were anything to go by, she knew that he had a heart for serving the people. Although she wasn’t entirely sure how the rest of the court would react to having someone not of noble birth in the Palace, it made sense to her that someone who was actually _of_ the people be part of decision-making process.

But she was the Princess, and it would be naive of her to think that her marriage would be any less than difficult. At least a prince knew how to live in luxury and had been raised from birth to deal with all the politics that came with ruling a kingdom. Aladdin, on the other hand, had always been a free spirit who truly loved his home in a run-down tower with Abu. Whatever he honestly felt about her (which was a whole other topic to unpack), there was no denying that she came with strings attached. Despite the effort they were both putting in to make it work, they were still two very different people who came from different backgrounds.

“I…” she said hesitantly, fixing her eyes on her hands. “We haven’t really… talked about that yet.”

Beside her, she sensed Dalia freeze. Jasmine braced herself, biting her lip as she counted the passing seconds.

“ _You haven’t spoken to him about it?!”_

She looked up. “I’m just-”

“ _Wait_.” Dalia closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. She looked at Jasmine again, her eyes boring into her skull. “Have you _at least_ told him about the law making you marry a prince by your twenty-first birthday?” Her voice was cool and collected, but the frantic look in her features gave away her emotions.

Jasmine kept her expression impassive as she held her gaze, but her heart was beating wildly in her chest. “He knows that I have to marry a prince,” she said slowly, hoping she didn’t sound anywhere near as nervous as she felt.

It was clear that Dalia saw through her feeble attempt at assuaging her worries right away. She sighed and gave Jasmine a tired look. “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but why haven’t you told him?”

“Because that law won’t exist by the time I turn twenty-one-”

Dalia cut her off with a hum of disagreement. “Wrong answer, try again.” She paused for a moment. “And maybe this time, _tell the truth_.”

Jasmine held her gaze fiercely, ready to insist that _she was telling the truth_ , that _there was nothing else to it_ , that _how dare she assume that she was lying somehow_ -

Before she realised that she was _afraid_.

There had been many opportunities over the past few months that she had known him to tell him about the law, and each time it presented itself, she had shied away. She knew that he could tell— he had always been sensitive to the slightest changes in her mood, or the fragments of emotion in her features that she’d failed to contain— but he never pushed her further for details. Not when she made it clear that she didn’t want to talk about it. She loved what they had together. Talking about it would change that. And when there was barely anything else in her life that she was allowed to truly call _hers_ , that wasn’t fettered down with duty or vigilant strategy or inauthentic facades, she couldn’t help the urge to protect it.

She turned her gaze out over the balcony to the city beyond, her eyes instinctively seeking out the run-down tower that had become like a second home to her, and her chest ached with a deep sense of yearning. There were so many things to be afraid of. But words failed to articulate all of those things in that moment, lending themselves only to the barest truth resonating in her heart… 

“I don’t want to lose him.”

She didn’t realise she was crying until Dalia had gathered her in her arms, holding her tight as her body was wracked with sobs. For the first time, she let herself be washed away in an outpouring of fear, letting herself feel every turbulent shift of the tide— the prospect of being torn away from him, of never seeing him again, of his _rejection of her_ — as Dalia stroked her hair wordlessly.

“You have to tell him,” she said gently when the worst of Jasmine’s tears had subsided. “He needs to know.”

***

In the darkness, a bird with red plumage spread its wings and leapt off of the Princess' balcony.

* * *

 

 _“The... Story of the… Magical… Lamp,”_ Aladdin read aloud to himself. 

When he reached the end of the sentence, he grinned widely and read over it again, trying to familiarise himself with the formation of the words. He stared at the piece of parchment in his hands, noting the big letters arranged in short paragraphs along the page, and the little illustrations of oil lamps and people throughout. It was clearly a story meant for a child, but it was perfect for beginners. Aliyah had lent it to him when she first started teaching him to read earlier that afternoon, giving him clear instructions to read the whole thing aloud, and then to copy out a few sentences in writing.

He sat on the ledge and leaned against the window sill of the tower as he slowly worked his way through the story. Every now and again, he came across a word he couldn’t pronounce or didn’t understand. On a blank piece of papyrus, he would carefully copy the word down and let it sit under his leg on the window as it dried. 

The pouch of silver coins he was paid each time he delivered for Aliyah and Rayan was enough to pay for food for both him and Abu, and even left a little bit of surplus for extra spending. After he had replaced the cloak he had lost on his first night, he had bought a small pot of ink and a brush made of animal hair, and was allowed to take home some of Rayan’s extra papyrus. He frowned as he looked at his writing— it was nowhere near as neat and tidy as Jasmine’s or Aliyah’s, but it was still legible.

Above him, Abu chittered softly as he stirred awake from his afternoon nap. He climbed down the curtains as Aladdin slowly copied a few of the shorter sentences from the story onto the papyrus, almost knocking his pot of ink over as he strained to see what Aladdin was doing. At his curiosity, Aladdin chuckled softly. He reached into his pocket and offered the monkey a few pieces of dried fruit, leftovers from his breakfast that morning. It was enough to coax him away so Aladdin could focus again.

For most of his life, he had never been particularly inclined to learn how to read and write. He knew how to get by on his own without it; it wasn’t a necessary skill to his survival. But as he spent more time with Jasmine and Dalia, and even Aliyah and Rayan as of late, he grew curious as to how what seemed like a few lines and curves on a page could hold someone’s attention for hours on end. It hadn’t taken long to convince Aliyah to teach him; especially when she found out he couldn’t understand what half the things she and her brother wrote about actually said.

He understood where they were coming from with wanting to raise awareness about important matters of the common folk’s affairs, and he agreed that these were things that everyone deserved to know. But he thought that a lot of those things were also matters that could easily be resolved by taking it up to the Sultan. Although he had never met Jasmine’s father personally, he knew he was a benevolent man from her stories, one who had instilled in her the importance of listening to the people.

***

_“Why don’t you just write a letter to the Sultan about all these things?” he asked. “I’m sure if he knew, he’d be able to fix all these problems.”_

_Rayan laughed sardonically. “What do you think we’ve been doing for the past five years? Every single one of the stories we’ve written about on these papers has been brought to the Sultan at least fifty times. And yet, here we are. Nothing’s changed. The Sultan doesn’t care about us.”_

_Aliyah produced a box sitting beneath within one of their shelves and carried it to the table in front of Aladdin. She lifted the lid, revealing a number of small pieces of parchment that all bore with the royal seal. He picked a few up, and noticed that the formation of the letters were all the same._

_“It says, ‘_ Thank you for your query. The Sultan of Agrabah will respond to your request at the soonest available opportunity. Peace be upon you. _’ It’s the same response every time,” Aliyah said._

_Aladdin frowned as he looked at the words carefully. Jasmine had always spoken about her father with the greatest respect at how well he managed the concerns of his people. She told him about how fiercely he defended against unjust bills that made their way on his Council’s agenda, bills that would threaten the safety of the people. Or the hearings he hosted at his court every year to hear out the concerns of the common folk. Granted, she had admitted that he hadn’t been able to attend those as of late due to his older age, and often delegated the task to his viziers. But still, everything he knew about the Sultan pointed towards a man who genuinely cared for the citizens of Agrabah._

_“This isn’t right,” he said, putting the parchment back._

_Rayan grunted in agreement. “No kidding.” He watched as the letters disappeared under the lid of the box again, and as Aliyah returned it to its place._

***

He looked back out of his window, his gaze immediately drawn to the grandiosity of the Palace sitting above the city. There was no doubt in his mind. If his suspicions were correct and there was something amiss in the Sultan’s court, then the Sultan needed to know. _Jasmine_ needed to know.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOSH I LOVE JASMINE. it was rlly fun to finally get to write a full scene about her own struggles and fears!! as soon as i started writing her scene she just COMMANDED my full effort, hence why i had to split up the chapter 😂
> 
> also on a little more serious note, i wanna know what you guys think of the political intrigue plotline. i know most of us came here for the cute and fluffy moments in the development of their relationship, believe me i'm right there with you guys, but as i've kept working on this fic i also started thinking more and more about the political stuff (especially ja'far's Big Villain Plan). i'm a little hesitant about it though because i haven't fully fleshed it out in my planning and i wanna keep the focus on the main story between aladdin and jasmine. i'm not opposed to it completely though, i LOVE reading political intrigue storylines. would that be something you guys are interested in seeing more of??
> 
> OBLIGATORY PROMO TO MY TUMBLR


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